


No Strings Attached

by leahholmes12



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arwen - Freeform, Canon, Cheating, Doctor - Freeform, Drug Dealer, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Infidelity, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Modern Era, drug ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leahholmes12/pseuds/leahholmes12
Summary: Who knew it would be so comfortable hiding in the closet while your boyfriend fights with his wife, wearing his boxers and smelling like sex? In Merlin's defense, Arthur hadn't been wearing his wedding band that night at the bar. But sex isn't the only reason why Arthur's seeing Merlin... One of Dr. Arthur Pendragon's secrets will change Merlin's life forever. Rated for infidelity, drug abuse, and explicit sex.





	1. Chapter 1

Needless to say, bartending isn’t the most glamorous job in the world. It’s a hell of a lot better than busing tables, which is Merlin’s previous job, but he has to deal with his fair share of drunken idiots trying to score free drinks to impress the shabbily dressed women huddled along the wall. The music is always too loud, and the air always reeks of sweat. They sell more cheap liquor than expensive wine to primarily uni students looking to get laid on any day of the week.

However, tonight is a Wednesday. Nobody goes to bars on weeknights unless he or she is looking to examine the bottom of a bottle to soothe the grind from work. As a result, the amount of hormonal college kids wandering around is at a low. The bar is empty save for a blond thirty-something-year-old with a barely touched glass of scotch and a handful of older women with fancy fruit cocktails across the room. It’s a luxury to have such older customers who tip well and don’t pester him.

Merlin thumbs through a textbook underneath the counter as he attempts to study with little result. His mind races through a million thoughts at once, each of varying importance. His mum alone in Ireland. The exam next week in organic chemistry. Will, who probably is still freeloading in Merlin’s small studio apartment. He gives up after five minutes with a slam of his textbook that punctuates the room with a quick, sharp sound.

“You okay, mate?”

Merlin quickly glances towards the voice and is surprised to find it belonged to the sulking man down the bar. He shoves his book back under the counter before picking up the scotch bottle from the rack. “I’m fine. Would you like me to top you off?” He motions towards the bottle in his hand.

The man examines his glass for a second (just long enough for Merlin to catch glimpse of the man’s dark circles rimming his eyes). He places the glass back onto the table before shaking his head. “Thanks, but I probably shouldn’t. I have to drive home soon.”

Part of Merlin’s job is to milk extra drinks out of customers, so there’s no way he’d be able to just take that answer. “You look like you could use another one. Hard day at work?” He casually leans on the counter just beside the man.

The man laughs quietly to himself, as if at a joke that Merlin isn’t privy to, while shaking his head. 

“Isn’t every day a hard one?” 

Merlin can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. “I suppose it depends on the job,” he safely replies.

“Not mine.”

Merlin gestures again towards the bottle an arm’s length away. “Then I suppose you’ll need another drink then to get you through it.”

Once again, the blonde laughs. “Trying to get me drunk, are you?” This time he graciously accepts when Merlin refills the small glass to the fill line, even going as far as to down most of it in one solid gulp. 

“Only trying to get the best tip out of you,” Merlin jokes as he returns the bottle to the shelves behind. This playful banter is something he’s well versed in; however, there’s something about the sad way the man looks at his drink that makes Merlin’s heart sink just a little.

For the next hour or so, Merlin tends to the bar in silence. The man seems to have lost interest in conversation with Merlin and has gone back to looking pitifully at his phone and nearly empty glass. When the clock strikes eleven, the women pay and leave, thus leaving the two men alone in the bar. The clock quickly approaches twelve, closing time and when Merlin can finally leave to head back to his flat and ex-boyfriend.

“Sir,” Merlin says at around 11:30, leaning again on the bar down from the man. “You do know we close in half an hour, yeah?”

It takes a second before the man snaps out of the daze he’d fallen into (Merlin can’t tell if it’s from his drinks or if it’s from sleepiness) and looks down at him. For the first time all evening, Merlin can see how handsome the man is head-on. Not really his type, but handsome nonetheless.  
Merlin gently places a hand on the man’s arm, as if to somehow bring him back to reality. “Sir – “

“I heard you,” he sighs. “I just didn’t particularly feel like answering.”

“Oh, well that’s lovely manners.”

The man shrugs. “I’m not the one relying on tips to pay my bills.”

Merlin swipes away the man’s glass before he could take another sip. “Touché.” He briefly retreats to the back of the bar to put away the used glass. When he returns the man has made no move towards paying or leaving.

As if reading Merlin’s mind, the man says, “I’m not quite ready to go just yet. Fetch another scotch, will you?” 

Resuming his earlier posture along the bar, Merlin shakes his head. “We don’t serve past 11:30 on weeknights.”

The man pulls a ridiculous attempt at a sad puppy dog face. “Can’t make an exception for me?”

Merlin is unfazed; this is a stunt he’d often had to work his way through. One would be surprised at the things he’s been offered in exchange for extra, past-curfew drinks. “I don’t even know your name, so my guess is probably not.”

“Arthur,” the man pleads. “My name is Arthur, and I’d love another scotch, thanks.” If he wasn’t so goddamn beautiful then Merlin might have been able to put up more of a fight.

So with a loud, dramatic huff, Merlin grabs a clean glass from the shelf and fills it with just a dab of what Arthur had been previously drinking. It’s not enough to really affect his blood-alcohol content, but hopefully enough to get that sad look off his face. He slides the glass down to Arthur’s waiting hand then pretends to be hopelessly interested in wiping an invisible smudge from the countertop.

Arthur is silent for another minute or two as he sips at his new drink. “And your name, then?”

Merlin casts a glance down at Arthur, clearly taken aback. He’d been asked his name by patrons only a number of times before, and he certainly hadn’t expected it tonight. “Merlin,” he apprehensively replies. “And on the off chance you’re looking to get laid, I’m not interested.” 

Mostly.

The smallest of smiles stretch across Arthur’s lips. “Who ever mentioned that? I certainly didn’t; although, you never know with you bartender types. You could be just trying to get a bigger tip out of me tonight.”

Merlin can’t help but laugh just a little at that. It’s a tried and true method that some of his coworkers had been testing out – not Merlin, of course – and had good results. “Damn. You caught me,” he sarcastically says as he continues to wipe down the bar. “But just wondering – was it working?” He means for the last bit to come off as mysterious and allusive, like what Merlin would like to imagine himself like and fails miserably.

Arthur leans back on his stool, eyeing Merlin suspiciously. “I do like this whole starving college student look you’ve got, but I don’t go for blokes with glasses.”

Merlin touches the frame of what he thought to be stylishly thick glasses apprehensively. “You do know that glasses can easily be removed.” He slides them off his nose with one hand and stows them into his pocket. “Easy. Painless.”

For a fraction of a second, Arthur twists the skin around his left ring finger, as for reassurance. He drops his hand in favor of leaning farther up the bar, closer to where Merlin was working. “How about I’ll pay you an extra tenner for that last drink and fuck you in the back of my car for free?”

Merlin nearly chokes. He’d had proposals like that before from drunk students, but never from an adult man as attractive as Arthur is. He takes a moment to compose himself before shaking his head. “What about you pay the full bill and then I’ll suck you off in the washroom for free?”

It goes without saying that three minutes later Merlin is pressed up against the washroom door with his hands fisting Arthur’s soft blonde hair and his mouth moving wildly along with his partner’s. In the back of his mind he knows this is wrong – he shouldn’t be screwing around with customers – but it feels so immensely good after going months without being touched by another human being. His lack of intimacy is probably what led to how easily he’d been convinced to follow Arthur’s perfectly broad shoulders back here without any sort of fight whatsoever. 

He’s brought back to reality when Arthur slips his hand between their pressed bodies and firmly rests on Merlin’s crotch with a squeeze. As a result, Merlin bites down on Arthur’s lip so hard he can faintly taste blood. Arthur hisses and bucks his hips against Merlin’s, thus forcing him to practically wither from the need to be properly touched.

“Needy, aren’t we?” Arthur whispers, breaking away from Merlin for the briefest of seconds. He moves his mouth to ravish the other’s neck. Merlin moans when Arthur sucks on a sweet spot below his jaw while rhythmically rolling their hips against each other’s. 

Merlin’s arms are desperately grasping at the nape of Arthur’s neck, his broad shoulders, the collar of his shirt, anything that his fingers can get a catch of. However, it’s not long before Arthur gets sick of Merlin’s fidgeting and wraps his free hand around Merlin’s wrists to pin them above his head. 

“You’re driving me insane,” Arthur breathlessly says, mouth an inch from Merlin’s. “Could you stay still for two minutes so I can at least get my bearings?” 

Merlin, who’s still in disbelief that he’s actually in this situation, makes a sloppy attempt at leaning forward to recapture Arthur’s mouth in another heated kiss only to come up short with a mouthful of Arthur’s chin. He’s glad that his skin is already flushed so his blush isn’t as detectable.“I’m sorry for being impatient about getting into your pants, your highness.” Merlin jerks his wrists in an attempt to free them. 

Arthur tightens his hand around Merlin’s constrained cock, which is beginning to dampen the front of his trousers much to his own embarrassment, and blocks all coherent thoughts from Merlin’s head. His back arches into the other man’s touch as his erection grows harder still. If he wasn’t so immensely turned on by this incredibly hot stranger, it might even be ashamed at the small, desperate sounds leaking from his mouth.

Suddenly, Arthur’s mouth is back on Merlin’s. Their swollen, wet lips slide messily across each other’s while their tongues tie knots.Merlin’s hands are abruptly released just a second later as Arthur grabs Merlin’s face between both of his large hands. This, Merlin decides, is his opportunity.  
So he musters all the strength left inside him and pushes Arthur off of him and to where the man is pinned against the row of sinks on the adjacent wall. Before the other man could even offer a word of protest, Merlin drops down to his knees and practically shoves his face onto the front of Arthur’s slacks. Through the thin fabric, Merlin traces the line of the other’s very hard, very thick cock with his tongue, mouthing at it every so often. When Merlin looks up through his eyelashes, he is pleasantly surprised to see that Arthur’s pupils have blown so wide barely any of the blue shows around the edges and his skin is pink to match his partner’s.

While keeping his eyes locked on Arthur’s, Merlin slowly undoes his belt. Even though Merlin isn’t pawing at Arthur’s cock, the other makes an inhuman sound in the back of his throat. Somehow, that makes Merlin movements even more sloppy and embarrassingly awkward, whether that be because of his desperate need to get off or not. His fingers slip when he tries to tug down Arthur’s trousers and he ends up fumbling with the button and fly for about two minutes before he finally, finally, is face to face with Arthur’s seemingly impossibly thick erection. 

He hesistantly wraps a hand around the base, almost testing the waters, and he’s immediately feeling Arthur’s fingers roughly fisting his hair. One pump to the tip, and Arthur’s breath hitches in his throat. A second flick of his wrist results in Arthur thrusting his hips so that the tip of his cock is jammed into Merlin’s cupid’s bow. 

“Now who’s the impatient one?” Merlin teases, letting his breath ghost along the swollen erection before him. He touches the tip of his tongue to Arthur’s cock for a split second, just to drive him insane, and before he knows it, Arthur’s pressing his member forcefully between his lips. 

At the first thrust, Merlin nearly chokes. 

By the tenth or eleventh, he’s taking Arthur in whole. 

The other man’s hand keeps Merlin’s head firmly planted in place as he fucks his mouth, the tip of his nose coming into contact with Arthur’s hips with every movement. Merlin’s own cock hangs out of the front of his own trousers, dripping in precome which is aiding in his own sloppy efforts at giving himself a handjob. The air is punctuated by Arthur’s deep moans, the disgusting sound of Merlin’s hand moving across his own enormous erection, and the occasional pathetic sound from Merlin’s lips. The washroom is hot and stuffy, not to mention pretty unkept, but that only seems to add to the overall sexiness of the encounter. 

“I’m going to - “ Arthur begins to say, yet never finishes. Merlin feels a hot liquid start to fill his mouth and he knows exactly what Arthur had tried to say. He pops of Arthur’s cock, without much resistance from the man himself, and tries to duck out of the way of the stream of white. Just hearing Arthur’s even deeper, guttural groans drives Merlin to the edge. Sooner rather than later, he’s shooting ribbons upon the washroom floor. 

The two of them remain where they are for a long, loaded moment. Finally, Merlin stands up to gauge the damage. In the mirror, he sees drying come on his cheek, a bit on his neck and shirt collar too. As he looks down to tuck himself back in, he can see his own mess across the tile and on the toe of Arthur’s shoe. He swallows, knowing that this isn’t something he normally does.

Arthur, meanwhile, seems to be in drunken disbelief. He continues to lean against the counter with his cock still out and filthy while his eyes are closed and mouth slightly slack.

Merlin tries to wash the evidence from his being with little result. When he notices that Arthur has snapped out of whatever trance he was in and has done up his trousers again from the reflection of the mirror, he speaks. “So you should probably go. I have to clean all this up.”

Arthur doesn’t answer for a moment, too absorbed in texting someone named ‘Gwen’. Friend, maybe? Sister? Certainly not a girlfriend. Not after what the two of them just did. God forbid wife, but Merlin hadn’t seen a ring on Arthur’s finger. “I want to see you again,” Arthur finally says as he hands Merlin his phone, open up to ‘add contact’. 

“Why?” Merlin says as he walks back over to the door, having horribly dirty images of what had just gone down against it. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Neither am I.” 

“So what? A hook up, is that what you’re asking me?” Merlin stops and raises an eyebrow at Arthur, who’s remaining strangely stoic throughout the exchange. 

The man nods. “That was too good to just give up. Besides, I doubt you get off very often without the help of your right hand.”

Damn. Cut throat. Merlin gives Arthur a long look before snatching the man’s phone and programing in his number. It was hot, what had just happened between them, and Merlin would be dammed if he wasn’t willing to go through it again. “No strings attached?” he asks. There really is no time in his life for a boyfriend of any sort. Not with work and school and his mum. 

“No strings attached,” Arthur repeats as he stuffs his phone back into his pocket and pushes past Merlin back into the bar and out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already finished writing this story. Chapters will come out every few days up until 8/27. After that, I'll post when I can. Thanks for all the lovely feedback!

After a week, Merlin has pretty much forgotten about Arthur. 

Actually, that's a true, blatant lie. 

It isn’t exactly easy to forget him. He gave the man his number (and later discovering how stupid that was, for all he knows Arthur could be a serial killer), yet he’s had no contact with Arthur. All he has is a sinking feeling in his stomach whenever he looks at the washroom at work and an urge to glance at the door whenever a customer comes in. 

Each day starts out like any other - waking up at the crack of dawn to study while drinking his first cup of coffee, followed immediately by a hurried shower, and then he’s out the door for his 9:30 class with another coffee in hand, listening to another lecture on his iPod. Morning commuters clog both the sidewalk and the streets; other students shuffle towards the university with backpacks and their caffeine fix. 

However, it’s not more than ten minutes into his walk to class that the course of his day drastically changes. His lecture pauses briefly in his earphones to signal an incoming text, and not expecting it to be anything remotely important. , he foolishly checks it.

It’s Arthur. I’m coming in tonight. Hope to see you there. 

It takes Merlin a moment to blink away his surprise. The absolute last thing he’d expect at nine o’clock on a Thursday at 9:00AM is a text from this mysterious (albeit gorgeous) man whom he’d somehow gotten himself tangled up with. In fact, it nearly makes him choke on his coffee just to see the ‘unknown number’ notification pop up on his phone. It’s a miracle that he didn’t get more than three strange looks from passerby. 

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then attempts to cover up the coffee spill on his t-shirt with his jacket as he continues to walk towards his class building, mind reeling. Should he even think to text Arthur back? It had been a fling, just a one time thing that Merlin kinda regrets now. It had been the first time he’d ever fooled around with a customer, and he’s seen coworkers get fired for on-duty rendezvous before. And he needs this job desperately. And he would like to work without having vivid penis flashbacks.. 

But not that he really wants to admit it, he really felt something (other than copious amounts of need, want, and pleasure, that is) with Arthur. Maybe that was only his body telling him it had been too long since he’d last gotten off with a partner? The only other human he’s had sex with was Will. 

Merlin shakes his head as he pushes open the door to the building and holds it open for the girl behind him. She offers him a warm smile as a thanks, which he barely registers in time to do the same in return. His phone burns a hole in his pocket while his mind spins. 

After his classes conclude at around two, Merlin still hasn’t replied to Arthur. He doesn’t work tonight, so he has an excuse to decline. Besides, the bar is usually pretty crowded on Thursday (pre-partying or something like that amongst the hormonal teenagers) and there is no way Merlin is sleeping with anyone in the washroom when someone could walk in any moment. Not his cup of tea. He doesn’t necessarily want to go back to Arthur’s place either, assuming he actually has one to go back to. (Hello, serial killer!) Likewise, Merlin isn’t sure if he wants Arthur to go back to his own flat. (Again, he’d prefer not to be murdered.) He barely knows the man. 

God, is he actually considering texting back? 

Merlin is standing at a stoplight with his phone in his hand, staring at the text before him. He’s still staring at his phone an hour later when he’s sitting on his mattress with another coffee and a bowl of popcorn. But unlike last time, he’s drafted a copy of his reply to send. 

I don’t work tonight.

Almost immediately a reply follows. Was Arthur literally just sitting around, waiting for Merlin to reply? Did he not have a job to attend to, the one he'd been complaining about that night? It is a Thursday after all.

Come to my work then. 

Well, it’s certainly safer than either of their homes. If he’s lucky, someone might even be in the building too in case - god forbid - something happens. (Why is he so convinced Arthur’s a murderer?)

And where would that be? 

St. Mary’s. I can make you an appointment for 4:00.

St. Mary’s. So Arthur is a doctor? Or a nurse. Or something in the medical field presumably. That would make sense though; Arthur’s clothes the other night looked expensive and no man would dare wear a Michael Kors watch without that kind of money to match.

But, a doctor? Merlin’s studying to be one of those. It has to be some strange coincidence that another horny medical professional just so happened to waltz into the bar. 

You’re a doctor? 

No, I’m a trash collector. Yes, I’m a doctor. Fifth floor, pediatrics. 4:00. 

You assume I’ll be there.

I know you will. 

Merlin rolls his eyes and tosses his phone onto the opposite end of the bed. Pediatrics, though. Arthur treats kids. He hadn’t seen that coming, not in the least. Arthur seems like the kind of guy who would avoid all contact with children, what with their messy hands and boundless energy. He’d been sure that Arthur had some sort of boring job that had him in front of a computer for hours on end. But as a medical student himself, he appreciates Arthur’s professional choice. He might even be able to help Merlin get his foot in the door once he graduates, if all goes well. 

Yet, four is only a few hours away and Merlin has a pile of homework and studying resting before him that surely will take him more than that to complete. The perks of being a med student, he supposes. Lots of time consuming homework and studying to endure on a daily basis with more appearing every day. Will should be home any minute now unless he’d finally found a place of his own (which Merlin doubts since the lad’s computer is still sitting on the kitchen table), so he really only has less than that to get some work done. 

Will arrives right when Merlin expects him, reeking of pot and with that awful, glazed over look in his eye. Merlin has no idea where the man gets his supply, since the bottles the stuff is contained in looks like medical pill bottles. As far as he knows, weed came from sketchy men on the street corner in small plastic bags. He doesn’t ask any questions and Will doesn’t tell. He’d prefer to keep it that way. 

The two broke up about six months ago, but it still feels like yesterday to Merlin. He’d dedicated so many years of his life to their relationship (nearly six, to be exact), and he’s still trying to figure out how to move on. They’d been each other’s firsts; he’d been the reason Merlin came out. They’d vacationed in Paris, drank their first beers together, applied to college and university at the same time. And now Merlin’s seemingly alone in the world. His mother lives in Ireland and his father has been MIA for as long as Merlin can remember. As far as he knows, he has no other relatives so since moving to London, Will has been Merlin’s only other familiar face. After they broke up, Merlin has diminished his friend count to a flat zero. Before he dampens his mood any more by dwelling on it for too long, Merlin blocks out his ex’s blabbering and antics to focus on his work and later, Arthur. 

 

Honestly, it's an enormous miracle that Merlin makes it just a few minutes after four. He’d spent more time than he'd necessarily like to admit in front of the hospital, debating whether or not to go in. And that’s on top of the hour he took picking out an outfit. And the fifteen minutes debating whether he should shave or not. Butterflies render his stomach nauseous and his heart beats out of his chest. 

A friendly receptionist points him in the direction of Arthur’s office. A basket of lollipops sit on the corner, and a few kids are coloring at a nearby table. It’s been awhile since Merlín had visited a pediatric office, yet all the sounds and colors of his childhood visits flood back to him. A faint trace of disinfectant taints the air; his shoes squeak on the tiled floor.   
The plaque beside Arthur’s door denotes him as head of pediatrics with a couple crayon drawings hanging by yellowing tape. It’s a shock to Merlin’s senses to couple this image with the Arthur who’s cock he sucked. 

Arthur looks up from his desk and closes his laptop when Merlin enters with the companionship of a very nice nurse. The man leans back in his chair casually, dressed in a white button down paired with a red tie that makes his eyes seem even bluer than Merlin remembered. He looks every bit of the thirty years that Merlin had guessed in this brighter, natural light. But there’s nothing wrong with that; in fact, it makes Merlin even more eager to move along with things. 

“Um, hi,” Merlin awkwardly says as he closes the door behind himself, careful to lock it. His eyes rake the small room, taking in the wooden desk, the set of chair befores it, and two bookshelves behind Arthur. Books are neatly stacked in alphabetical order, well manicured plants sit on the windowsill, and a few toys are sitting in a green box on the floor. A set of framed diplomas hang on the wall behind the desk with fancy looking seals.. 

Arthur presses his lips together in a sarcastic smile as he looks Merlin from head to toe. “Hello.” God, why did he have to do that? It only made it harder for Merlin to keep from running across the room and throwing himself on the man. 

“Are we gonna… here?” Merlin trails off, eying Arthur suspiciously as he crosses the room to stand awkwardly across from Arthur, beat up Converse, crooked glasses, messy hair, and all. 

Arthur laughs as he leans back to cross his leg across the other with his ankle resting on his knee. “Got any better ideas?” He appears so nonchalant while Merlin is a bit of a mess. 

Merlin bites his lip and shakes his head. When Arthur gestures for Merlin to come closer, the latter panics. He barely knows anything about this man; there’s logically no reason why he should be hooking up with him. Other than his unquenchable thirst for beautiful men, he supposes. And that weird tug he's feeling towards Arthur, like gravity pulling him to the earth. “Wait.”

Arthur cocks an eyebrow and settles back in his chair, a look of annoyance on his face. “What? There’s less than forty-five minutes until my next appointment.” 

Merlin swallows and nervously glances at his shoes, which look so out of place when compared to Arthur’s. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“That didn’t stop you last time, as I recall.” 

“I was really deprived.” Merlin shrugs. “That was different. This is… I guess it’s kinda the same thing?” The last bit mushes together into one long word as Merlin sheds his backpack and practically climbs over the desk. He hopes to God that Arthur’s chair can support the both of them as he falls into the other man’s lap. His long legs get tangled up in Arthur’s arms, then eventually make it so they’re folded at the knee on either side of Arthur’s hips. His mouth finds his partner’s for yet another passionate, heated kiss that takes his breath away. Arthur’s hands slip down to rest on Merlin’s arse, which sends tingles up his spine. 

Merlin’s fingers once again make contact with Arthur’s soft hair and tangle it between his fingertips. His trousers are already beginning to feel tight between his legs, and he’s certain Arthur can feel it too through his shirt. Actually, he knows Arthur can from the way the man shifts so Merlin can feel something hard poking into the side of his leg. He shudders.

“Get on the desk,” Arthur grumbles, pulling away from Merlin’s mouth. With a swipe of his hand, he clears pens, folders, and paperwork from the immediate front of the surface, then with help hoists Merlin onto the top. At this point, Merlin isn’t in a position to protest when Arthur starts to undo his own belt and fly, thus tugging out his half-hard cock. 

Merlin’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he watches the sight before him. “Wha - What do I do?” he asks without taking his sight from Arthur’s cock, which is now getting harder by the second. It looks strangely out of place belonging to a man as dressed up as Arthur is in a place like this. Merlin loves it.

“Open up the top drawer on the right,” Arthur commands. “Take out the condom and the lube.”

Merlin’s shaky hands do just that and after retrieving them, he holds the pair out to Arthur. It’s a little odd to find those in a pediatrician’s desk, but he doesn’t worry about it for more than a half second. 

Arthur shakes his head. “Put it on me.”

“Okay,” Merlin replies. His voice wavers slightly as he tears open the foil. Sex. Arthur wanted to have sex with him. Merlin isn’t entirely sure how he feels about that. Blowjobs are one thing, but actual sex is quite another. It’s not a bridge that he honestly really wants to cross just yet. At least not sober. Once the condom is rolled down Arthur’s cock, Merlin leans back against the desk again with his heart pounding in his chest. 

But then again, his partner is perhaps the most handsome man he’s seen in awhile. And when they kiss… He feels like it would be really good. And after a few more passionate kisses to his lips and a peck on his jaw, Merlin feels more at ease. Still nervous as hell, but more comfortable than before. 

So when Arthur finally stands, Merlin lets the man tug down his jeans without protest. He lets Arthur forcefully turn him around so he’s facing opposite him, bent slightly over the desk. The man’s hand is planted firmly on Merlin’s shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his thin jacket. When Arthur’s other hand grabs his hip, Merlin can feel the coldness of what he believes to be a dollop of lube against his skin. Oh, god. He braces himself for the intrusion of a fingertip, having been through this routine time and time again. 

Arthur’s mouth latches onto the side of Merlin’s neck and sucks hard just below his ear. Merlin’s knees nearly buckle from the pleasure he gets from it. There’s likely to be a mark there later, one he’s going to have to explain to Will, but it’s worth it. Or it is until something way thicker than a finger pushes into his body. 

“Oi!” Merlin exclaims through the sharp pain, automatically squirming away from Arthur. “Is this your first time? You can’t just shove it up me without preparation, idiot!” He twists his head to glare at Arthur.

Arthur quickly pulls out and blinks away in bewilderment. From the look of both embarrassment and confusion cleverly hidden in Arthur’s eyes, Merlin knows he’s the first guy Arthur’s ever hooked up with. “Shit, sorry,” Arthur quickly says, looking away from Merlin. He looks panicked for a second before Merlin’s being pushed back to face the desk and away from his partner. 

After a long moment, Merlin feels the much smaller, much more welcome push of a finger inside of him. It’s a relief after the shock of Arthur’s erection just seconds before. It’s as if Arthur finally finds his bearings when suddenly Merlin’s beginning to feel waves of pleasure at the base of his spine. Before he really can register what’s happening, Merlin’s withering beneath Arthur’s mouth on his neck and his fingers inside him. 

“Now, give it to me,” Merlin moans through clenched teeth and shut eyes. “Or I’m going to come right this fucking second.” He supports himself using one hand clenched on the edge of the desk while his other reaches behind and wraps around the bottom of Arthur’s tie.

Apparently, Arthur doesn’t need to be told twice. As the men join together, both moan from deep in their bellies. The pace is set almost instantaneously as Arthur bucks his hips deep inside Merlin and can scarcely wait a handful of seconds before doing it again. Merlin can hear Arthur’s shallow breathing in his ear, for the man’s head is now resting on his shoulder, muttering ‘fuck’ and biting occasionally when the pleasure seems to spike for them both.

Their noises crescendo into a glorious symphony of profanities and groans until Arthur sharply clasps a hand over Merlin’s mouth. “Shut up,” he hisses in Merlin’s ear. “People are working.” All the while his hips continue to ram into Merlin’s relentlessly. 

Merlin’s back is arched at a painful angle, hand reaching behind himself to use Arthur’s tie as an effective way to keep himself anchored to the man. He bites down on Arthur’s finger as he nears his climax and before he can at least try not to dirty Arthur’s desk too much, he’s coming all over the top of Arthur’s laptop and on the edge of a stack of papers.

Seconds later, Merlin can feel Arthur finishing as well. After they’ve both come down from their respective highs and Arthur’s pulled out of Merlin, the two merely share one last, long, simple kiss before they go about cleaning up the mess they’ve made. 

Merlin instantly feels his face heat up when he sees the blobs of white decorating Arthur’s once neat desk. Those papers… They probably won’t be salvageable. He tries not to look at it as he shamefully tucks himself back into his trousers and catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window. Very messy hair, flushed skin, red bite on his neck. It looks much worse than it probably should, or perhaps he’s just being paranoid as usual. 

The silence is punctuated only by the sounds of Arthur trying to tidy himself up. Merlin steals a glance over at the other. He’s tucking in the tails of his shirt back into his slacks with a far away look in his eyes. Merlin follows his gaze to the other man’s phone, which is lit up with a new message, again from ‘Gwen’. Something about dinner? Merlin can’t really get a good look at it from where he stands. He wants to ask but feels he doesn't have the kind of relationship with Arthur to be allowed to inquire into his personal life. 

Arthur catches him looking and quickly snatches up his phone, shoving it hastily in his pocket. “I have an appointment in five minutes. You should go.” He rakes a hand through his hair in an effort to tame the rogue strands that stick up around his face and the back of his head (from Merlin’s fingers, no doubt). 

Merlin clears his throat, casting another peek at the mess on the desk. “Will I be seeing you again?” He looks over at Arthur with the expectation that he’ll be pointed towards the door without a straight answer, as is Arthur’s true fashion.

And he’s partially right. Arthur nods towards the door as he dumps the ruined papers into the bin and pathetically tries to wipe off his computer with a tissue. “Probably. Now leave.” 

Merlin loudly sighs and says, “So I’m a booty call, then?” He doesn’t exactly fancy being called such, yet he chooses not to formulate a witty comeback. It doesn’t seem worth it, since Arthur would probably not comment on it and just tell him to leave again. 

“I said leave,” Arthur coolly replies, the stereotypical white doctor’s coat over his white shirt and a stethoscope draped around his neck. “I’ll text you when I’m free next.”

Merlin rolls his eyes and stomps out of the room, much like a temperamental teenager, and leaves the hospital minutes later. He absolutely knows he shouldn’t let Arthur call him back, that he shouldn’t find himself in this position again. There’s no reason why a promising young med student such as himself should subject himself to such filthy standards. 

The entire walk back to the flat is filled with loud groans of frustration, rewarding him with many a spread of odd looks from others. When Merlin arrives back home to a high Will, he vows that he certainly will not be hooking up with Arthur again. Boys, he decides, are a waste of his precious time.

Merlin makes a beeline to the bathroom, locks the door, and unsuccessfully tries to wash the smell of sex and of Arthur from his skin. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, at the messy hair and the uneven shave, and wonders why on earth this is happening to him. Why is he getting wrapped up with a man who couldn’t care less about him? Who calls him for sex, then dismisses him afterwards? 

He didn’t think he was ready to get involved with anyone anytime soon. The breakup with Will had torn his heart out and mangled it in ways unimaginable. He’d felt unwanted and unloved for months now; he didn’t dream that he’d be touched again by another human. Not so soon anyways. 

But then again, he’s lonely. He wants to play into the illusion that someone out there might care for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Like last time, Merlin doesn’t hear from Arthur for upwards of a week. Although at any given moment, the man doesn’t stray far from Merlin’s mind. In fact, while he’s working on an essay for one of his classes he ends up writing ‘Arthur’ about three different times by accident. Or he finds himself typing the same sentence over and over. Or just flat out staring at the blinking cursor. That tends to be the usual unfortunate outcome. 

So in a bout of frustration, he slams his laptop closed and falls back onto his unmade bed. He wonders what his life has become, what with all of these very inconvenient dirty thoughts that run through his mind; it’s getting to the point of being a serious problem. Instead of studying while at work at the bar, Merlin spends more time watching the door than memorizing muscles and systems. He knows he needs to stop. He needs Arthur to just disappear from his mind, yet it’s an impossible task to complete. He’s reverted back to the embarrassing mindset of a teenage boy.

But of course, forgetting him doesn’t happen. Not more than five minutes into plunging back into his homework, Merlin’s phone beeps from his side. Thinking it’s Will again, asking Merlin to go buy him god knows what from god knows where despite being across the room, he foolishly checks it.

Arthur: Friday, 8:00. You pick the location.

He should’ve known. Nothing, nothing, good ever comes from hooking up with Arthur, as evident by his lack of concentration and endless craving of affection. It’s a hard text to compose, but it’s one that he knows he needs to send. 

Merlin: No thanks.

Clearly, his message doesn’t quite come across as it’s intended. Almost instantaneously, a reply comes through. Certainly Arthur must have nothing better to do than sit around and schedule a hook up, which is surprising since he’s a doctor and they always seem to be grumpy and working.

Arthur: Fine. My office again. 

Yeah, that definitely didn’t play out like Merlin had hoped. He shakes his head as he tries to better illustrate his intentions in a more explicit way. Honestly, he’s just applauding himself for at least attempting to cut things off with Arthur before becoming even more involved with the man - physically and emotionally. 

Merlin: I mean no thanks, I don’t want have to have sex with you again.  
Merlin: Ever. 

Merlin sincerely hopes that’s the end of the conversation. Any decent human being would let that be the end, right? (But part of him wants Arthur to come back with something that makes him undo that thought.)

But apparently Arthur isn’t a decent human being because it’s scarcely a minute later before his response comes through. 

Arthur: You ruined a stack of my paperwork. The least you could do is see me again. 

Wow, trying to guilt him into sex? That’s something new. Even Will hadn’t reverted to that; it almost seems like a really low blow. Once again, Merlin begins to feel that relentless pull to give in to Arthur for the third time. It’s a mix between a tingle in the base of his spine, a drop of his stomach, and the uncontrollable urge to watch chick flicks and imagine him and Arthur during all the sex scenes. 

Merlin: You assume that I’m free. 

That’s a safe answer. It’s a nice, noncommittal response. He’s not submitting to Arthur’s will while prompting him to answer. Now it feels like he’s simply replying just to see how desperate Arthur can get, to see how much the man really wants him. 

Arthur: I’m sure that you are. 

Arthur knows absolutely nothing about Merlin other than that he’s in uni and works at a bar. That’s it. Yet somehow Arthur can sense that Merlin really has buckets of free time, and the thought that Arthur can know that Merlin basically is sitting around waiting for him to booty call him up is terrifying. 

Merlin: I’m not.

But he is. Sort of. Doing homework while sipping tea isn’t exactly a strenuous activity. 

Arthur: Fine. I suppose I’ll just have to resort to using my hand to get me off.

Oh shit. Oh shit. That’s not what Merlin had been expecting. And now, the images are starting up in his head, and Merlin does nothing to stop them. He swallows thickly, thankful that he’s not physically with Arthur. He glances down at his lap, and his swelling cock makes a defined outline on his leg.

Merlin: You say that like it’s a bad thing.

There’s nothing wrong with getting yourself off. Merlin’s done it hundreds of times, and he turned out okay. But the mental picture of Arthur going at it.... It’s enough to make the tingle in his spine escalate. He imagines the man sitting at his desk with a hand down his pants; lube probably covers his palm and his eyes are likely wild with need. 

Arthur: It is when I could have someone else do it for me. 

Is that an invitation? Damn, Arthur is relentless. 

Merlin: Get a girlfriend or a boyfriend. 

Arthur: Or I could just get you. 

Merlin: Probably not.

What happens next, Merlin refuses to take responsibility for. The entire exchange happens in a mere ten minutes and has results that leave Merlin feeling both extremely dirty (figuratively and literally) and immensely relieved. 

Arthur: You loved it too much when I suck on that spot just below your ear. You’d hate to see that go. 

Merlin: You loved it too much when I let you fuck my mouth. I can see why you want me to stay.

Arthur: I’ll admit that I did. 

Merlin: I could tell by the way you were shoving my face into your hips. 

Arthur: Like I alluded to earlier, I did enjoy it. 

Merlin: Are you hard just thinking about it?

A second’s delay.

Arthur: Yes. Very. 

Merlin: Are you remembering how fantastically tight my mouth was around you?

What on earth is he doing? Why is he subjecting himself to this… this teenage-like sexting? It makes him feel like he’s seventeen again and hiding in the bathroom from his mother. He squirms, trying to discreetly palm himself while keeping it out of sight of Will, who’s sleeping on the floor but could wake up any second. It’s strangely exciting to be doing such a thing with his ex boyfriend laying right there. 

Arthur: I am.

Merlin: If you’re lucky, I might let you fuck both my mouth and my arse next time.

Arthur: I’m usually a lucky man.

Merlin: I’ll even take off my glasses again for you.

Arthur: Leave them on. I want to fuck you so hard they fall off your nose.

Shit. Merlin can’t resist anymore. He quietly slides off his bed and pads across the room as silently as he can. Once in the safety of the bathroom, he clumsily yanks down his trousers and goes straight to pleasuring himself in slow strokes over the sink. God, now he really does feel like a teenager again. Twenty-six years old and pathetically attempting to get off over text with a man whom he’s only ever slept with twice before? It sounds much worse than he wants to admit. 

Merlin: Over another desk? Or something a little more comfortable?

Arthur: It would be over my kitchen island. We’d try to make it to the bed, but we wouldn’t get that far.

Merlin: Sexy.  
Merlin: I’m so hard for you right now.

I want you so bad. I want to feel your thick cock up my arse and your mouth biting my shoulder.

Arthur: I just came after reading that.

And then Merlin came after reading that. And of course being him, he misses the sink and covers the countertop as well as the assortment of half used hair products on top. Once he’s done, he leans with his back against the filthy counter, eye closed and relishing in that after-come elation. 

Merlin: Show me.

Arthur: Image attached.

The picture is extremely high quality to be coming from a man who’d just climaxed from simply reading a couple of texts. The first thing he registers Arthur’s hand covered in white goo, clearly he’d tried to contain it by cupping his palm. The next thing Merlin notices is Arthur’s cock laying nearly deflated against his thigh. The third thing is a strip of gold around what appears to be his ring finger. Merlin’s stomach drops. 

Merlin: Is that a wedding ring?

A moment’s delay. 

Arthur: Yes. 

Merlin now knows who Gwen is. He knows why Arthur always texted him after over a week; he'd had to make sure that it wasn’t suddenly suspicious that he'd been texting a certain number more than regularly or been home late, in the case of that first night. Now he knows why Arthur never wanted anything other than sex from Merlin. It had all just been a diversion from his wife, and one that Merlin can’t believe he’d let himself be a part of. 

It makes Merlin sick just thinking about it. He'd been the other man; he's a homewrecker. He's being used. And to think that Merlin may, may, have been feeling something other than lust after this man. 

Merlin: Don’t text this number again. 

Arthur: Let me explain. My marriage is falling apart. We’re married by name, not by love. 

Merlin: I said don’t text this number again. 

Arthur: Merlin, please. Call me. 

Merlin doesn’t. He turns his phone off and slips it into his pocket without as much as glancing at the next influx of messages from Arthur. He blinks back tears of frustration as he cleans the mess he’d made in the bathroom. 

How could he have been so naive? A man like Arthur - rich, successful, handsome - should be married. He should have kids. Oh shit, does he? The thought brings a fresh batch of tears to Merlin’s eyes, which he quickly whisks away with the back of his hand. Never again is he going to fool around with a bloke he barely knows; nothing could ever be worse than the feeling he’s experiencing right now. 

Will begins to pound on the bathroom door. Merlin takes his time in tossing away the evidence and cleaning himself up before he pushes past his ex and back into the main flat. As he looks around the room, he can see why he’s still single. He lives in a one room studio flat with barely enough furniture to make it livable (Merlin’s bed, a table and two chairs, a television sitting on a very old stand, Will’s bed on the floor, stacks of books in every other free space). All of his time is either spent working at the bar, in class, or studying. He, himself, looks more like a hobo than a med student graduating in the spring. It’s really no mystery why he’s single and friendless. 

Merlin climbs back up onto his bed (or rather, his stack of mattresses with a few blankets and pillows on the top) and cracks open one of his thick textbooks. This time, it’s easy to lose himself in his homework. For once, he doesn’t want to think about anything other than graduating, working his internship and residency at St. Mary’s - fuck.

St. Mary’s. That’s Arthur’s hospital. No, no. That’s the opposite of what he wants. Yeah, but Arthur’s a pediatrician and Merlin’s scheduled to work in A&E. Surely they won’t cross paths, right? Unless a very sick child comes in and Merlin would have to call for a specialized doctor. But is Arthur the head of pediatrics? Yeah, he had a large and important looking office, but that doesn’t mean anything, right? Oh god. He’d have to occasionally work with Arthur. 

It’s as if the universe doesn’t want them to be apart. There’s no escaping Dr. Arthur Pendragon for a soon-to-be Dr. Merlin Emrys, and that’s honestly both terrifying and exciting. Not that Merlin would ever admit to the latter.


	4. Chapter 4

Five Months Later…

Merlin’s last semester of med school came and went. He worked only the minimal amount of shifts at the bar to get his bills paid. (Only days, mind you. He never worked nights anymore. At first he’d been too afraid that Arthur would show but then he ended up liking the quietness of the day shifts.) The messages from Arthur that one afternoon remain on his phone as a reminder as to why he probably is destined to be alone forever. He begins to enjoy his quiet existence full of books, tea, and ignoring Will. 

As of now, he's sitting in a large ballroom in St. Mary’s with a hundred or so other people. It's orientation day for the incoming flux of fresh-out-of-med-school graduates; yet, Merlin finds himself more nervous than excited. There's no doubt that he’ll be seeing Arthur today. All of the heads of departments are speaking and after lots of research, Merlin knows with certainty that Arthur is head of pediatrics. 

His research also yielded a few other interesting bits about the man: thirty-one years old, graduated from Cambridge, went to med school in America, married to a Guinevere for six years, no kids. That last part is rather strange, since Arthur does treat children for a living. 

Merlin looks around the room at the other students taking their first residency at St. Mary’s. They all look like him - eager, scared, excited - but that’s where the similarities end. Merlin doubts any of them worked as hard as he did to get to where he is; as a result, he honestly expects the number of those who complete the program will decrease by about half by the time they reach the end in three or so years. However, for the time being he’s enjoying not being the only one who’s new to working in an actual hospital with actual patients with actual health issues.

The room quiets when a panel of about ten or so important looking adults enter, dressed in a multitude of different outfits. Some are in scrubs, looking straight out of the OR. Some are in suits or dresses. Other have their signature white coats across their shoulders and stethoscopes around their necks. All have a serious look about them that is more than a little intimidating. 

The last adult to enter the room catches Merlin’s eye. 

Arthur.

The man wears a blue dress shirt that makes his eye pop with a silver tie that looks suspiciously like Christian Grey’s (Yeah, Merlin subjected himself to that read and doesn’t regret it a bit). His white coat stands out in contrast with a shiny metal stethoscope hanging limply from around his neck. His hair is neat and skin flawless with a certain gait to his walk that breathes confidence. Whether Merlin wants to admit it or not, the man takes his breath away.

His wedding band sticks out on his left hand like a lighthouse to a lost ship. Impossible to miss, shiny and bright. 

Merlin can’t take his eyes off of Arthur throughout the entire opening remarks from the head administrators. Not a word is remembered, not even the name of the head of A&E (his department). 

He’s remembering their flings with a certain fondness that is quickly replaced with disgust. Even though it’s been five months since he’d last spoken to or seen Arthur, it still leaves a rotten taste in his mouth. But the aftertaste is sweet and addictive. 

Sometime during the hematology student welcome, Merlin makes the mistake of lingering on Arthur for too long. The men just happen to lock eyes, and Merlin is certain he can see the pupils in Arthur’s eyes enlarge just a bit. Arthur quickly looks away and appears to bite his lower lip as he pretends to be uninterested in seeing his ex lover. Merlin says ‘pretends’ because he catches Arthur’s gaze two more times before the man is called up to address the incoming pediatricians. 

Arthur stands and his confidence radiates off of him in strong waves as he takes the podium. “Good morning. My name is Dr. Arthur Pendragon, and I’m the head of pediatrics here at St. Mary’s. I look forward to working with all of you, not just those in my department. Pediatricians are also frequently called to emergency medicine, oncology, family practices, and hematology. Therefore, my students will be perhaps the busiest out of the rest, but I can assure you that it will be worth it. There is no greater feeling than seeing a sick child walk out of your consultation, ward, or office feeling even just a little better. You can expect me to give 100% towards preparing you - “

“And he does mean 100%, let me tell you,” a man to Arthur’s right interjects. 

Arthur’s eyes roll ever so slightly before continuing. “You can expect me to give 100% towards preparing you for a career in pediatrics and I expect no less than that from you. Once again, I greatly look forward to helping each of you become to best medical personnel you can be. Thank you.”

A round of polite applause follows Arthur’s small speech and when he sits down, the man’s eyes float over to Merlin’s again. Merlin holds his attention for another few seconds, hoping to show the man that he isn’t the same person he’d been five months ago. He refuses to give into Arthur’s contagious charm again. He wants Arthur to think Merlin’s moved on, that he’s independent and confident. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Arthur messing with his phone. Probably texting that good old wife of his, the one who probably has no idea that her husband was screwing a twenty-six year old man. Merlin has the utmost sympathy for her. (But also a little jealousy, if he’s being honest.)

Arthur: Meet me in my office after orientation is over. We need to talk.

Yes, they do need to talk. If they don't talk, then they’ll probably have a really rough time seeing each other around the hospital. Or at least that's what Merlin thinks. So he instantly makes his mind up to definitely go see Arthur. It's best if they just get everything out in the open, right? It certainly will help diffuse the tension and they can move on with their separate and individual lives. 

Merlin: Fine. 

Afterwards, Merlin follows the slightly familiar path through the hospital to Arthur’s office. The same receptionist points him in the direction of Arthur’s door, and the same coloring table is surrounded by chattering kids. Parents look at him funny when they notice he isn’t with a child of his own from over the top of their dated magazines and smartphones.

The second Merlin enters Arthur’s office, he’s pushed roughly up again the back of the door. Arthur’s mouth is suddenly on his, making Merlin’s stomach jump and heart begin to pound in his chest. He goes immediately into sexual overdrive. 

But then he remembers what’s going on and what happened months ago. Merlin shoves Arthur away with two hands firmly to the chest. “Stop, Arthur, stop.” 

Arthur straightens up and gains his composure, smoothing the front of his shirt as he does. “You still aren't upset about this, are you?” He holds up his left hand, donning his ring. “Because like you and your glasses, I can take it off.” He begins to work at the ring and slips it deep into his pocket. “Gone. Easy. Painless.” 

God, Merlin had said those exact words that first night. But the lack of ring doesn't make things any better. Arthur is still married and still has a wife. Merlin once again feels that horrible feeling of guilt. “No, not easy. You're still married.” 

“Like I said, only by name. Maybe you need to get those glasses adjusted because apparently you can't read,” Arthur snaps. 

Merlin shakes his head. That doesn't make it any better. Not at all. “Then tell me, Arthur, why you're cheating on your wife with me.” 

Arthur narrows his eyes. Merlin can tell that the man really doesn't want to answer the question by the way Arthur pauses before replying. “Probably for the same reason why you’re fooling around with me.” 

“You're alone too? Your only family lives hours away in Ireland? You have to live paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet and just want a small escape to think only of yourself? I don't think so, arsehole.” Merlin is pissed off by the way Arthur’s face remains stoic while he's practically shouting at the man. 

Arthur face is completely emotionless. His eyes take on a suddenly empty, far away look. “I may be married and I may live with a woman whom I care about, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy or fulfilled. Although, I can't expect you to understand, a pathetic resident student who’s never experienced adult life.” 

Merlin slaps Arthur on the cheek, hard. It leaves an angry red handprint across his pale skin. “I'm not pathetic.” 

Arthur touches a hand tenderly to his cheek. His eyes darken immediately. Suddenly Merlin is pressed back up against the door with his hands pinned above his head. “You did not just do that.”

Merlin jerks his hands in a feeble attempt to free himself. “What are you going to do about it, big man?” 

“You really want to know?” Arthur leans in and bites down, hard, on Merlin’s earlobe so that he whimpers from the sudden pain. Arthur’s mouth moves down to that spot below his ear that drives Merlin insane and bites down there too. 

Merlin raises his knee and jabs him in the gut. He has so much pent up frustration and anger with the man, so it feels extremely good to abuse him like this. It's a small price to pay for months of torment. “You're the pathetic one. You're the one who can't maintain a healthy marriage to the point of cheating, you untrustworthy bastard.” 

Arthur appears to be unaffected by Merlin’s knee to the stomach. So much, in fact, that the man drops his hand from Merlin’s wrists and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “I’m the untrustworthy one? That's rich coming from you. You act like you’re infatuated and then leave the second something happens.” Using Merlin’s collar as his leverage, Arthur whips Merlin around with so much force that Merlin goes tumbling to the floor. Arthur immediately pushes the other down onto his back then straddles him with a knee on either side of Merlin’s hips. 

With his hands suddenly free, Merlin grabs a hold of Arthur’s tie and yanks him down to his level. “I pity you,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Why pity me? I'm rich, successful, and handsome. You don't even have two of those.” Arthur’s hand roughly grabs a handful of Merlin’s hair. He then plunges down and roughly kisses Merlin, shoving his tongue instantly into his mouth while keeping him constrained. Much to his disgust, Merlin’s hands immediately go for Arthur’s own hair. 

The two passionately kiss until Merlin feels he's got Arthur in a place that he himself can take the power and control away from the other man. In a flash of about two seconds, Merlin puts all of his weight into flipping them over. He somehow ends up on top of Arthur with his legs locked around his hips. One hand is firmly placed in the middle of his chest to keep him down while the other tries with little success to get at his belt. “At least I can safely say I've never cheated on my partner.”

What on earth is he doing? The answer is unclear other than the fact that his pants are tight and he really, really wants to kiss Arthur again right now. Merlin hates that he's so turned on by sleeping with a cheating man. He hates that Arthur literally has him tied around his finger like this. All it took was one look during orientation and now he's back where he started from. All of his hard work to forget Arthur is done. 

Arthur pushes Merlin’s hands out of the way and rids himself of his belt. “You are such a fucking idiot.” 

Merlin presses his palm hard against Arthur’s growing erection. He swears he sees Arthur’s eyes roll back in his head. “That makes two of us.” 

Arthur wraps his index fingers around the loops of Merlin’s pants and almost rip them as he yanks them over his hips. The tip of Merlin’s cock has already made a small wet spot on the front of his boxer briefs, much to his embarrassment. “I’m not an idiot,” Arthur snaps, grabbing Merlin’s underwear and nearly splitting the seam in order to get them down. “Don't ever call me that again.” He then shoves a finger in between Merlin’s lips. “Lick it.”

Merlin runs his tongue around Arthur’s finger, even sucking on it a little, and almost whimpers when Arthur takes both of their cocks in his large hand and squeezes. 

“You won't stop sleeping with me, Merlin. You like this too much. You secretly love the idea that you're being fucked by a married man, that I chose you instead of my wife. You won't leave me.” Suddenly Arthur pulls out. His hand slithers down Merlin’s lower back and doesn't stop until it reaches his entrance. A finger intrudes, completely dry save for saliva.

“You know what the sad thing is? You can't do a thing about me. Someone finds out, your reputation and your marriage is destroyed. You could lose your job. You've got more to lose than me.” Merlin’s reduced to such a position that all of that comes out choppy between moans. His hips gyrate as he speaks, thus making himself even more a mess than intended. 

Arthur shoves two more fingers inside Merlin without warning. Merlin yelps in surprise, then he holds Arthur’s gaze continues to fuck himself. “I'm going to ruin that shirt of yours.” 

“Do it,” Arthur challenges. 

Merlin slaps Arthur again, more for effect than anything else, then kneels so that Arthur’s fingers aren’t still inside him. He begins to pump his cock up and down while hovering over Arthur’s chest. 

He can hear Arthur start playing with his own cock, which only turns him on more. 

For the next couple of moments, the only sound coming from either of them is breathless moans and the slap of skin. 

“I'm coming, you bastard,” Merlin groans. He makes sure to cover as much of Arthur’s chest as he can with his come. Everything from his tie, to the white doctor’s coat, to the blue shirt has some degree of goo on it. 

Arthur’s hips jerk, signaling his own release. Merlin can feel the hot stuff hit the back of his arse and can be sure that at least some of it is on Arthur’s trousers as well. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Arthur moans as he climaxes. “I really fucking hate you.”

The two of them simply stare at each other for a second longer before like last time, the end up sharing a deep, searing kiss. 

“You've got quite the mess to clean up,” Merlin says with a cheeky grin. “Hope none of the new residents see.” 

Arthur sits up to assess the damage. “I’ve never despised someone more than I despise you.” But for someone who’d just proclaimed his hate, Arthur is surprisingly affectionate and kisses Merlin again. “My wife isn't going to be home tomorrow night. You should come over and let me do you on an actual bed.” 

Merlin can't believe that he finds himself saying this, but he honestly can't resist. “Text me the time.” 

Arthur begins to shed his coat then tugs his tie off from around his neck. He wrinkles his nose as he takes in the copious mess Merlin had made across it. “I will.” He stands up, looking pointedly away from Merlin, and walks to his desk. Merlin watches him pull a set of green scrubs from his desk. Guess Arthur planned to be spending the rest of his day in A&E, if his outfit is anything to go by. 

Merlin takes the opportunity to disappear. He doesn't wave goodbye to Arthur or say anything as he leaves the office and shuts the door behind himself. He doesn't care that his neck is red or that he probably looks awful. He just wants to get out, think things over, and really decide if he's going to Arthur’s tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I usually wait a few days to post, but this chapter is one of my favorites and I can't wait to read the reactions. Let me know what you think! Thanks for sticking with me for so long!

Every morning is a struggle to get out of bed. 

The shrill beeping of Arthur’s alarm jerks him out of glorious sleep every morning at exactly five o’clock. Gwen barely stirs beside him, seemingly oblivious to her husband tossing back the blankets very slowly and carefully as to not wake her too. He looks at her sleeping figure before standing up. 

Both of them aren't the people they were six years ago. They were both so young, so not ready for the task of marriage. Their union is a mistake that he and Gwen both know but refuse to verbally acknowledge. It's not as easy as signing a few papers to erase their partnership. Uther made sure of that. Much more is at stake than just a marriage; it’s Arthur’s entire world (and the worlds of a dozen others). 

They love each other, but not in the way that a husband and wife should. That stopped almost the minute they stepped off the plane after their honeymoon. They try to make it work, though, and the two of them strive to have an air of normalcy. The pair attempt to eat at least five dinners a week together; they even have scheduled sex every Sunday night before bed. If they're lucky, they might watch an episode of a show or catch up on the news before going to sleep at night. It's so very plastic that it physically hurts Arthur to endure it. It’s like acting in a play every day of his life. 

He stretches his arms over his head and forces himself to step out onto the cold, wood floor of the bedroom. Their room is dark, as it was designed to be, with deep reds and dark woods with small accents of white. He'd let Morgana decorate their flat, which is another one of his many, many mistakes. Everything in his life is decided for him, right down to what color his living room sofa is. 

The next thing he does is check his phone. Only six new messages? It might actually be a good day. Usually it’s twice that coupled with one or two missed calls. 

Uther: Arthur, you need to go see about the Wellington accounts. They failed to send in the payment. Send Gwaine with you. 

Uther: This needs to be done by tomorrow. 

Leon: I took care of Grayson. Money is in the box under your car. Give my best to Uther. 

Merlin: Time? 

Merlin: I have a ten to seven shift tomorrow. 

Merlin: I don't have a car so it would be great if you would drive me so I don't have to take the tube. My card is running low. 

Arthur locks his phone then steps into his house slippers. He’d need to take the trip to the car before sunrise; the extra light would make the box more obvious under his car. He's been doing this for too long to make a rookie mistake like leaving a box full of money in a place where anyone could take it or see him retrieve it in full daylight. 

He retrieves the cardboard box just moments later after reaching underneath his black BMW and tucks it snugly under his arm for the short walk back into his building and to his flat. Once inside, he takes a kitchen knife and rips through the tape. He dips his hand into the contents and comes back up with a handful of hundred pound notes. Uther will be pleased when Arthur drops this off after work. If he's having any sort of good day, Uther might let him have tomorrow off. 

Arthur leaves the box open on the kitchen island to deal with later. He pads back into the bedroom and then to the bathroom to go about his morning routine. The hot, dual-headed shower provides welcome relief to the sore muscles in his neck and back from work, but it also leaves him time to think - his worst enemy. 

The most prominent thoughts are of Merlin. 

It wasn't just a coincidence that Arthur had gone to the bar at that exact time on that exact day. It had been calculated by his father and who knows who else with painstaking precision. 

It's no accident that Merlin was accepted for his internship and residency at St. Mary’s. Now there's absolutely no excuse as to why he doesn't have Merlin sign his soul away by the end of the year. It's terrifying. 

Med students were typically who they targeted. They were poor and struggling with mountains of debt, naive enough to think nothing would happen to them, and stupid enough to go along with whatever Uther assigned to them. They wouldn't think twice about flying out of the country. There wouldn't be a wife and children to come home to. 

They deal prescription drugs, and as the son of the lord, Arthur plays an essential role. Along with his associates, Arthur makes calls to unruly customers to attempt civil coercion into either paying up or buying more. He typically is sent in for the high up customer because of his father, but that usually means Arthur has to spend long hours around a table with people he's honestly afraid of. That God for Percy and his monstrous appearance. 

Since being married to Gwen, Arthur’s had three affairs, all with women. All of those women hate him now, as they should, but they have successfully been assimilated into the ring. Two work in emergency medicine and the other in anesthesiology. It explains why he's so indifferent to sleeping with Merlin. It's just another day of work. Once they fall in love with Arthur and think he'll leave Gwen for them, he strikes. He signs them into slavery and two weeks later he leaves them. He remains emotionless and distant, not committing to anything other than sex. 

Even Gwen knows about the women. She also knows that Arthur’s sleeping with a man. In fact, she was more than willing to give Arthur the flat for the night to have Merlin over. It’s fucked up. 

But it's the life they have to live. Gwen’s had a single affair; he was a surgeon named Lance who Arthur is pretty sure still stays in contact with his wife. He sees the phone bill. Gwen’s father owns a pharmaceutical company, so she seemed like the perfect wife for someone like Arthur. What the doctors can’t prescribe, Gwen’s father supplies. As for his wife, Gwen mostly just accompanies Arthur to big meetings as arm candy as far as the business is concerned. She's an elementary school teacher by day, wife of a drug prince by night. She's such a strong woman and it's something Arthur really admires about her, even if barely harbors any romantic interest in her anymore. 

Arthur doesn’t know why Uther assigned Merlin to Arthur, especially since he's of the same gender, but Arthur is powerless. He has to do as his father says; it's all he's ever done for his entire life.

But Merlin’s different. Arthur actually might feel something for him. He's always been so unattached from the other women that it hadn't been hard to deceive them. Merlin’s the opposite. Arthur has a difficult time hiding his true feelings from showing on his face. Whenever they hook up, it's fulfilling instead of draining. He actually looks forward to it. 

It honestly scares the shit out of him. 

When Arthur finishes his shower, he carefully shaves his face clean. The steam clouds his reflection, which he really doesn't mind too much. It keeps him from really truly seeing his own face, the one he's been cursed with. Sometimes he wonders if his life would be any different if he didn't look so goddamn attractive. 

He leaves the bathroom moments later to find the bed empty. Gwen is messing around in the kitchen with breakfast while listening to her favorite alternative radio station. It makes him smile just a little to hear her quietly singing along as she cooks. 

After he's dressed in his customary shirt and tie, he joins her. “Good morning, Gwen,” he greets as he walks over to turn on the coffee maker. 

Gwen smiles and says the same to him in her sweet, smooth voice. When Arthur turns around, she holds out a plate of eggs and toast for him. “Coffee isn't a healthy breakfast.”

Arthur sighs as he takes the plate from her. He usually doesn't consume actual food in the morning, but he does it to please her. He's sure it's not a fun thought to think that the next time she sees him, he’ll have slept with another man. 

They eat in a calm silence before both heading off their separate ways for their respectable jobs, Gwen to school and him to the hospital. She may text him during her lunch break to see how his day is going, but Arthur never replies to those. The next time he’ll speak to her is probably going to be late tonight, after Merlin leaves, or early tomorrow when he wakes up. 

The new residents look completely lost as they wander around the hospital, searching for their respective wards. Arthur wonders how many of them actually recognize him from the day before as he walks down to Oncology. Apparently a few do because he gets pulled to the side with requests for directions. Arthur gives them instructions to get to their departments, annoyed at the delay in his own work. It's never a fun time the first week or so after the new residents show up; they ask so many questions and need constant guidance. Arthur will probably get very little of his work done due to it. 

At around four, minutes after physically evaluating a pediatric cancer case and prescribing two rounds of oxy to a client, Arthur gets called down to A&E after a car accident leaves a child in critical condition. He changes quickly into a pair of green scrubs before heading downstairs. He’s vaguely wary of running into Merlin, but his gut tells him that his supervisor must keep the residents under tight supervision on the first day. 

Three hours later, the patient is stabilized. Arthur had relentlessly watched the boy with a hand constantly adjusting morphine levels and writing down any changes in vitals. He doesn't leave the child’s bedside for more than five minutes at a time. When he’s caring for a sick kid, it’s like his world becomes clearer. He thinks of only one thing - making sure the child is cared for. 

“Arthur,” a voice calls from the doorway. It breaks Arthur’s concentration and brings him back to reality. 

Arthur’s in the middle of checking the boy’s heartbeat for the hundredth time to make sure the machine is properly calibrated. When he's finished, he turns towards the figure in the door. Merlin. “It's Dr. Pendragon.” He remains nonchalant as he writes down the information in the patient’s chart. 

“Dr. Pendragon, you didn't text me back,” Merlin says without even attempting to lower his voice. 

Arthur shoots Merlin a glare full of his disapproval. They should not be talking about their personal lives at work. It's perhaps the biggest mistakes one could make while working in a hospital; a patient or parent could hear and spread rumors about how unprofessional the staff at St. Mary’s is. Arthur certainly doesn't need that kind of gossip surrounding his immaculately maintained reputation. “Keep your personal life out of the workplace, Dr. Emrys.” 

“But I -”

“Get out. Can't you see I’m busy?” Arthur snarls through gritted teeth. The boy’s family is in two rooms down the hall, but he still fears being overheard by other doctors or nurses. 

In fact, he's extremely thankful when a pretty brunette nurse, Freya, comes in the room with a fresh back of morphine mixed with a mild antibiotic to keep any infections at bay. Arthur turns his back on Merlin as he changes the port in the boy’s arm to accompany the increase in medicines. By the time he looks back at the door, Merlin’s gone. Arthur sincerely hopes that he'd been called away on an assignment and not just sulking in the washroom. 

Arthur returns to his office at six-thirty that evening. The boy had reached a point where his condition is easily monitored and he can be kept comfortable until he wakes from his medically-induced coma. Finally, after what felt like an impossibly long day, Arthur can go home. 

But Merlin. Shit. He'd totally forgotten about the man until now. He’d be lying if he’s going to deny the flutter in his stomach. 

Merlin: Arthur? Am I still coming over tonight?  
Merlin: Sorry about that in the room.  
Merlin: I’m going home. See you tomorrow?

Uther: Wellington. 

Gwaine: Where should I meet you? 

Gwen: Arthur, when should I come home tonight?

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose. He's being pulled in a hundred different directions at once. 

(To Merlin) Arthur: I’ll pick you up around ten. Send me your address. 

(To Uther) Arthur: I’m heading there after work. 

(To Gwaine) Arthur: Meet me in the parking lot. I’ll look for your car. 

(To Gwen) Arthur: It would probably be best if you stay the night at my sister’s. 

He blindly dresses back into his clothes from earlier. His life isn’t even his own anymore. He can't remember the last time he did something for himself or took a vacation that didn't have any ring undertones. Sometimes he wishes he could just disappear. 

Merlin: (Address attached)

Uther: Now. 

Gwaine: Sure, mate. See you there. 

Gwen: I will. 

Arthur slings his work bag over his shoulder and leaves his office with a migraine behind his temples and a feeling of dread. The drive to the warehouse is completely silent in an attempt to soothe Arthur’s throbbing head with no results. He would kill to just be able to go home, take a long shower, and spend the evening with a beer in front of the television. But alas, that's completely out of reach. 

The job is thankfully finished in just over an hour. Arthur hadn't needed to swing or dodge any punches, but he still feels drained. Gwaine had done most of the talking, so Arthur spent the duration of the meeting looking intimidating while making eye contact with the other well dressed men across the table. 

By the time Arthur gets back to his car, he really doesn't feel like having to fake his way through a night with Merlin. He doesn't want to have to work to maintain a look of disinterest and to physically have to go through the motions of having sex with the man. He fears he'd end up laying limp on the bed or accidentally spilling information. So he decides to cancel, even though Merlin would probably be pissed. He just can't do this tonight. 

Arthur: I’m going to need to reschedule. 

Merlin: Why? 

Arthur: I’m not feeling up for fucking you tonight. 

Merlin: We don't have to have sex. We could just watch Telly. 

Arthur: I’m not dating you. 

Merlin: I never said you were.   
Merlin: Come pick me up. 

Arthur tosses his phone into the passenger seat to keep from distracting him. His heart is telling him to go pick up Merlin while his mind is telling him not to. Merlin isn't anything other than a job to him, an assignment from his father. However, he's feeling a sharp tug on his heart to do otherwise. He finds himself reaching for his phone again and programming Merlin’s address into it. Only twenty minutes away? That's not too bad. It actually looks like it might be only ten or so minutes from Arthur’s own home. 

Arthur: I’m outside of your building.

Merlin appears only five minutes later, clad in his normal hobo-esque attire. It almost makes Arthur smile at the familiarity, despite the dark masking Merlin’s features. When The man climbs rather awkwardly into the passenger seat, Arthur kicks the car back into drive without a word. 

Thankfully, Merlin is the one to start up the conversation. “So we aren't having sex, right?”

Arthur pauses before replying. He can't think of a more masculine response than, “I’m not feeling up for it tonight.” 

“That's okay. We can just watch Telly.” 

Arthur can't even express how lovely that sounds. Instead of saying so, he merely nods. Can't seem too eager, can he? 

“Do you have alcohol?” Merlin asks. “Because a drink would be fantastic right now.” 

And one can definitely be sure that the two men drunk to their heart’s content once they got back to Arthur’s flat. They talked for hours - three and a half to be exact - about almost everything. Merlin tells Arthur about his mum and how close the two of them were. Arthur describes his fairytale wedding and even speaks briefly about how the two of them have fallen drastically apart. Merlin rants about his freeloading ex boyfriend, and Arthur speaks highly of his sister and lowly of his father (leaving out the important details like his father’s profession and Morgana’s cut throat personality). They exchange embarrassing childhood stories (like when Uther caught teenage Arthur masturbating or when Merlin accidentally wetted himself in his second year of primary school). They discuss every topic imaginable from politics to the proper way to brew a pot of tea. After hours of talking, Arthur can't think of a single topic they haven't discussed. After hours of talking, it feels like a barrier has broken down between the two of them. 

By the end of the night, Arthur feels that he and Merlin may not just be sleeping together; they might actually call each other friends. He hasn't had a proper friend in years.

But in Arthur’s opinion, the best part is waking up the next morning with Merlin nestled into his chest on the sofa. He gently brushes the hair from the man’s forehead and gently touches his lips to his temple. Merlin doesn’t stir and Arthur softly smiles.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I'm so sorry for the long gap. I'm getting ready to graduate from University right now, so life is a bit hectic. I'll hopefully update again soon! 
> 
> In the meantime, thanks for all the support!

Two Months Later…

 

Arthur gently places his hands on either side of Merlin’s face. They lock eyes and remain open as Arthur leans in to kiss Merlin. It's a different kind of kiss than one they'd previously shared; it's soft and delicate with their lips just barely in contact. Merlin tilts his head to the side to deepen it, with his forearms now gently resting on Arthur’s shoulders. The other then moves his hand to cup the sharp bump of Merlin’s hips. They stand there in his foyer, slowly kissing with the utmost care, for several perfect moments. 

Arthur reaches up and wraps his hands around Merlin’s bony wrists. Without speaking, he leads Merlin across the flat to his bedroom. As they pass the kitchen, his right hand slips down to grasp Merlin’s. Their fingers interlace for the first time. The other man squeezes Arthur’s fingers gently, almost as a sign of approval. It makes Arthur’s stomach flutter. 

“Arthur,” Merlin says when they enter the bedroom. When Arthur turns to look at him, Merlin’s deft fingertips tug at the knot of Arthur’s tie. He wraps his own hand around Merlin’s hand to stop him. The intent is written across Merlin’s face. He wants a different kind of sex than they’d had before. 

Making love is a bridge they haven’t crossed. To Arthur, this means a more intimate kind of sex with the intent of showing love and affection towards one’s partner - starkly different than any sex the two of them previously have had. This key distinction left a bit of privacy that Arthur really appreciated, something that Merlin can’t lay claim to. It helped him keep his personal feelings out of his work and duty to Uther. 

However, it feels that things have changed between the two of them in the past few months. They’ve grown closer, and their relationship doesn’t quite feel like just sex anymore. 

Today, Arthur gets a sense of reassurance now that he hasn't gotten before. That this is something he wants to do - make gentle love to a man he cares for. So after meeting the other’s eyes, he gives a small nod and releases his hand. 

With a soft smile on his face, Merlin slowly unties Arthur’s silk tie and lets it fall through his fingers onto the floor. Next the man ghosts his palms down the front of Arthur’s shirt, touching each of the buttons once before snapping it open. Soon Arthur’s standing before Merlin for the without the safety of his shirt over his chest, feeling slightly exposed. Merlin traces the outline of the gold and red dragon tattoo on his left bicep then touches the track marks on the crook Arthur’s elbow. Arthur can see the burning question in his eyes (he'd never be able to explain his very sparse drug use without explaining what he does outside of the hospital). Another soft, light kiss follows that; Arthur’s hands are on either side of Merlin’s face while Merlin’s own rest on his shoulders. 

Arthur hesitates before slipping his hands down to Merlin’s collar. It's a strange sight to see him in something other than a t-shirt, but he loves the way the button down hugs the other’s sides and clings to his arms. His own fingers aren't nearly as graceful as Merlin’s, but he manages to get the job done with the buttons. He pulls his face from Merlin’s just far enough to marvel at the sharp lines of Merlin’s chest, dusted in a fine layer of dark hair leading down to the top of his trousers. Like Arthur, Merlin has an assortment of tattoos on his torso - a black line of foreign symbols up his side and a beautifully drawn couple of leaves along the curve of his upper hip. It's a beautiful sight. And Arthur tells him that. 

Merlin smiles then nudges Arthur's face back up to his own, where he captures his partner in yet another one of these strange, intimate kisses. The next thing Arthur knows is Merlin’s fingers struggling again with his belt. When his slacks drop to his ankles, Arthur instantly toes out of his shoes and socks, kicking the offending materials away. 

It appears Arthur’s skill with removing belts has improved. Not more than ten seconds later, both men stand completely naked in the middle of his bedroom. Arthur’s hand firmly rests on the small of Merlin’s back as he pushes their bodies together. Merlin cups the back of Arthur’s neck gently then leans in to mouth at his collarbone and shoulders. 

It's such a change from their usual rough, filthy sex that Arthur almost doesn't know if it's real. He isn't used to feather light kisses across his neck with gentle touches and kisses that he can barely feel on his lips. It almost reminds him of when he and Gwen actually made love and meant it, back when sex was a display of affection and not just a weekly chore to maintain a somewhat normal relationship. 

Arthur slides his hand down Merlin’s side and around to grasp the back of his thigh. Merlin somehow knows what Arthur’s trying to do and bends at the knee, which helps Arthur loop the man’s leg around his own hip. The other one follows suit.

All those trips to the gym really pay off as Arthur effortlessly carries Merlin over to his bed and lays him carefully down on his back. 

Merlin reaches up and affectionately brushes some hair out of Arthur’s eyes. He smiles at the man with something Arthur can't quite identify twinkling in his eyes. But Arthur returns the grin before draping his own larger body over Merlin’s thin one.

Arthur rains kisses down Merlin’s neck and sucks on one of the many sweet spots housed there. Merlin grips Arthur’s neck, tightening with every pointed suck, and quietly moans periodically. It's such a drastic difference from their usual sex sessions; most of the time they're so loud that Arthur’s terrified someone will hear and investigate. Now the air is punctuated by Merlin’s soft noises and the occasionally suction-like pop whenever Arthur moves his mouth. It's almost sweet. Almost. 

Arthur now doesn't struggle with preparing Merlin anymore. His fingers somehow know just the right angle and just the right pace to have his partner writhing underneath him. So Merlin almost instantaneously moans (with a twitch of his cock) when the man merely touches the outside of his entrance. He dips his finger inside with just the right amount of pressure. Once he’s certain Merlin can take it, he slips in a second and third beside the first. Merlin’s arms are loosely looped around Arthur’s neck with his legs wraps around Arthur’s hips to keep his lower body elevated enough to be prepared. Arthur lets his head hang forward to brush his lips across Merlin’s cheek before he withdraws his hand and replaces it slowly with his cock. 

As they sink together, they both breathlessly moan. Merlin lifts his head to catch Arthur in a deep, slow kiss as he adjusts. Arthur shifts his weight so that his elbows take the brunt of his weight on either side of Merlin’s shoulders. When he begins to move inside Merlin, the two press their bodies as close together as possible, not a piece of paper could separate them. They rock their hips at a perfect, slow rhythm. Arthur’s face is buried into the crook of Merlin’s neck while his partner holds him close with a hand resting on the space between his shoulder blades. Every so often Arthur moves to peck at Merlin’s lips. 

The room becomes filled with soft groans and deep breathing, occasional snap of a kiss separating, and the slap of skin. When Arthur comes inside of Merlin, he sees stars. When Merlin comes between their stomachs a minute later, he curses into Arthur’s ear. 

Arthur pulls out and reaches for a towel. He gently wipes down Merlin’s and his bellies clean of come then ties off the condom and disposes of it. Merlin welcomes him back onto the bed and kisses Arthur once more, long, sweet, and deep before snuggling up to his chest. Arthur drapes his arm around his partner’s shoulders to keep him close. They drift off to sleep tangled in each other’s arms. 

He’s not sure why ‘fucking’ suddenly just became ‘love making’ but he thinks he likes it. 

Life has become more bearable since Merlin walked into his life. It took him months to realize it, but it has. Merlin’s not just another hookup ordered by his father; Merlin’s someone special now. He may not be a boyfriend, but he's definitely his friend. They spend at least one night together at Arthur’s flat every week (usually Wednesdays when Arthur is least likely to be called into some sort of business). Sometimes they eat lunch together in his office if Arthur doesn't have an appointment or meeting to attend (which is rare). If he's lucky, he might see Merlin caring for someone in A&E if he's summoned down to give advice to another resident or to take over a patient’s care. 

Arthur accepts that he’s started falling for Merlin. He wants to hear the monotonous details of Merlin’s life while sipping weak coffee and wearing nothing but his flannel sleep pants. He wants to have all the little moments he’d never had with Gwen, the ones that leave meaning behind in their wake. He thinks he might not mind having a kid or two with Merlin by his side. 

It's terrifying, utterly terrifying. He's never fallen for any of the girls he'd had an affair with. It's been almost strictly sex and occasionally a heartfelt conversation. If he's being honest, he'd been either high or drunk during most of it. (He does work for a drug network, after all.) 

Speaking of which, he could really use a fix right now. He wakes up around ten the following morning with an empty space beside him. Merlin is already up, and the smell of eggs and bacon waft through the open doorway (Gwen had spent the night at his sister’s to give them privacy). As Arthur sits up, he realizes he can easily shoot up in the bathroom without Merlin even seeing. A bit of morphine straight to his vein might make his day a little less miserable after Merlin leaves and keep his head from going a million miles an hour, spinning with how complicated his life has become. It would be nice to be able to attempt to enjoy his morning with Merlin before immersing himself in hell. He’s being summoned at two for a meeting with his father and some of the other higher ranking members. If he doesn't put too much in the syringe, it should wear off by then… Gwen wouldn't be back until after noon… 

He quietly tosses back the blankets and walks to the bathroom, passing the mess they'd made the night before. He laughs a little to himself when he notices his boxers are missing, which probably means that Merlin’s currently wearing them. How cliche. 

Once in the bathroom, he relishes control of his hands to his muscle memory. His fingers find his supply of needles and morphine under the sink, mostly untouched (he's not a relatively frequent user, just when he feels particularly depressed or overwhelmed). He opens the alcohol swab with his teeth, much like how he opens the condoms when with Merlin, and the coldness is welcome on his skin. A quick prick to the soft flesh of his elbow is followed by a rush of numbness and clarity. 

It's as if the world slows down a bit. Arthur leans on the sink as the effects commence. It's like every sharp, painful feeling and emotion in his body is washed away, or at least toned down. It makes him feel a little less like a pawn towards his father or a liar and user towards Merlin. Hell, he even feels less like a failure. It's not enough keep him from functioning normally; it's just the right amount to keep him from succumbing to his demons for a handful of short hours.

Arthur washes his face in some icy water before he feels ready to face Merlin. He grabs a fresh set of boxers from his drawer and pulls a sweatshirt over his torso to hide the marks as he leaves the bedroom.

Merlin is in the kitchen, bent over the stove with a skillet in hand. Arthur can see an attempt at scrambled eggs before him. He's quiet as he comes up behind him and wraps his arms loosely around the other’s waist. After a quick kiss to Merlin’s cheek, Arthur rests his head on his shoulder. “Good morning.” 

Merlin clearly is pleased by this by the way he tilts his head to rest upon Arthur’s. His whiskers scratched at Arthur’s temple. “Good morning to you too. You're quite affectionate today. Fancy some breakfast?”

Arthur can't help but know that his change in level of affection is due to the chemicals swirling inside his body. “I would love some.”

Merlin shrugs Arthur off so he can properly serve up the food. Arthur doesn't question how Merlin knows where the plates are or how much of a portion Arthur wants. 

“I have a better idea though,” Arthur says as he takes the plate from Merlin. He leans in and kisses Merlin’s mouth, biting down on his lower lip when the lad tries to pull away. 

Merlin loops his arms around Arthur’s neck and deepens the kisses. Soon, they're furiously snogging with their hands down the front of the other’s trousers, completely oblivious to the sound of footsteps walking up to the door. 

When Arthur hears the key turn in the lock, he pushes Merlin away. “Shit,” he hisses as he grabs the man’s wrist. Gwen must have forgotten when she was supposed to be home or just blatantly disregarded it. She does know about Merlin, but it's quite another thing to find your husband with a bloke’s hands down his pants. “Get in the pantry. Go.” He shoves Merlin into the kitchen pantry, which is sparsely populated to begin with, just in time. 

Gwen comes around the corner just a second later. She takes one long look at Arthur, hesitating on his crotch for a moment longer than necessary, and clears her throat. “Did you just wake up?”

Arthur nods. She must've thought that Merlin hadn't spent the night; she probably just assumed that he'd left after they'd finished fooling around. “That obvious?” He has to get rid of her. There's no way he’s going to let her see Merlin hard and wearing his boxers. 

Gwen walks into the kitchen and eyes the breakfast spread. She most likely thinks that Arthur had made that himself. “You almost always wake up with morning wood. Your alarm wakes me up too, you know.” 

Arthur flushes. She thinks he's just woken up turned on, like a teenager. “Oh, right. Yeah.” 

She smiles at him, and Arthur’s stomach flutters a bit. Damn morphine, clouding his senses so that any little smidge of affection screws with him. “I know it's not Sunday but…” Gwen blushes and looks shyly away. God, she could be so cute sometimes; it makes Arthur remember why he'd agreed to marry her back when her father asked. He smiles back. 

***

Merlin is cramped. Actually, that's an understatement. He's positively squished. His knees are bent up into his chest with his head at an awkward angle to fit underneath a shelf and next to a really large box of pancake mix. He can see through the crack in the door but not well. He can sort of see Gwen by the stove and Arthur leaning against the island. Their words are muffled, but he can safely say that they're having a civil conversation. She is smiling, after all. 

But then they're kissing. And Arthur hoists her up onto the island. Her hands are in his hair, just like how Merlin likes to do, and shit… Arthur’s mouthing at her neck.

Why are they kissing? What's going on? Is this a diversion so Merlin can get out? He thinks he can get away with sneaking past. But the door was squeaky when he came in, wasn't it? Oh god. He's stuck in here until Arthur lets him out. 

When he glances back through the crack a few minutes later, Arthur has his hand up Gwen’s skirt and her nipple between his teeth. Guess the man really is in a hurry to get his hands on her tits. Gwen is clutching his head for dear life. 

Merlin’s cock twitches. He'd never been into voyeurism but damn, seeing his boyfriend with his wife is only putting more seductive images into his head. 

Fuck. Arthur has disappeared from view and Gwen has started moaning with a new intensity. Merlin can only assume what’s happening and it's hot. So hot, in fact, that Merlin can't resist touching himself in response. 

But just as soon as it's begun, it's over. Gwen shoves Arthur away so hard to man nearly hits his head on the countertop. “What the hell, Arthur?” she shouts. 

Arthur stands up rather wobbly. “What are you talking about?” 

Gwen grabs his arm, extending it between them. “This, Arthur! You said you were going to stop. You promised.” 

“You don't understand, Gwen. Sometimes I have to. Sometimes I need it just to get out of bed,” Arthur pleads. “You know how hard it is for me right now.” Merlin’s never heard Arthur’s voice sound so vulnerable and he doesn't even really know what's going on. What had Arthur done? Shit, did Gwen figure it out? That Arthur’s cheating? Shit. He backs up even closer to the back of the pantry. 

“I was foolish to think you'd really stop this time. Sometimes I wonder why I still put up with you.” Gwen sounds on the verge of tears. “I don't get it.” 

“You do not understand my life. You will never understand it. You don't get what a struggle it is - “

Gwen cuts him off with, “Where the fuck is it? I’m getting rid of it right now. In the bathroom again, I presume? That's where it was last time.” She storms off with tears streaming down her face. 

Suddenly the pantry is yanked open by a very disheveled looking Arthur. “Go get in the car. I’ll drive you home when I finish up here.” He tosses the keys at Merlin then practically shoves him out of the closet before he can utter a response. “Go,” Arthur hisses. “Before she comes back.” 

The car is about half as comfortable as the closet for someone who doesn't know how to drive, let alone turn a car on. It’s chilly and he’s wearing nothing but Arthur’s thin boxers. Who knew it'd be so comfortable hiding in the closet while your boyfriend argues with his wife, wearing his boxers and smelling like sex, so much that he's wishing he was back in it?

Arthur returns fully dressed with Merlin’s clothes in his hands. The ride home is silent and Merlin can tell something is bothering Arthur, but he can't bring himself to ask when the situation seems so delicate. What had Gwen been shouting about? Him? It didn't seem like it. But Merlin’s clothes had been on the bedroom floor. She must have seen them when she'd stormed into the bathroom; therefore, she couldn't have realized Merlin had been there until after she'd begun to be upset with Arthur. It doesn't make sense. 

Arthur looks straight ahead when he pulls up to the curb beside Merlin’s building. He doesn't even say goodbye. Merlin hesitates then gently reaches over to squeeze his hand. He thinks he might even have caught a brief softening in Arthur’s eyes before he departs from the car.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kind words! Now that school is pretty much done, I have plans to finish this fic and publish a new one by the time graduate school starts in January.

Merlin isn't stupid.

He knows that there’s more behind Arthur than the man lets on. There’s gotta be some sort of explanation. Arthur is so stoic, so emotionless, so closed, it’s like talking to a wall. When he was speaking to Gwen, his eyes looked different. Granted, Merlin was looking through a crack in the door, but he could see a bit of change, for lack of better term, in the brightness and clarity of his eyes. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know how, but Merlin knows Arthur is hiding pieces of himself. Big pieces. 

Arthur let his guard down that one night when they’d both been drinking. Through his drunken haze, Merlin thought he’d made a little progress towards getting to know the real Arthur - the one that’s obviously so securely locked away behind the rough exterior of the man. Merlin has seen brief glimpses of this secret persona, mostly from when he’d just happen to pass the man in the hospital. He’d seen Arthur sit by his patients’ beds for hours on end, just checking and rechecking vitals and administering medicine with meticulous care. He’d watched the man walk hand in hand with a three year old girl with her arm wrapped in a bright pink cast while listening intently to her blabber on about butterflies. He’d witnessed the fleeting look of blatant depression when Arthur steals peeks at his phone. He feels how Arthur sometimes stiffens under Merlin’s touch and other times, he softens. 

Then there was the time when the two of them actually made love instead of just fucking. That had been such an intimate experience for Merlin. He could feel Arthur’s need to be loved and touched. He saw the marks on Arthur’s body, the small dots in the skin of his left elbow from tiny needles and the tattoos with obvious meanings behind them. He could trace the lines of Arthur’s muscles and feel the other’s powdery, golden skin under his fingertips. He can still feel the ghost of Arthur’s hair beneath his fingers. 

There just is so much that Merlin doesn’t know and desperately wants to. 

He knows that Arthur’s married, albeit apparently unhappily, but he can’t hope that someday he might be the one Arthur wakes up to every morning beside him. It’s a faraway thought for the hopeless romantic in him. If Arthur hadn’t left his wife yet, then he must have a bloody good reason not to, what with the extensive affair he’s been having. Almost seven months now, actually.

At first it was all about sex. Actually, it mostly still is. They have never met up just to talk, save for that one night so many weeks ago, and when they finish having sex (at Arthur’s flat) they either fall asleep immediately or stare at each other until one of them drifts off. Usually Arthur is the first to sleep, and Merlin has the pleasure to toy with Arthur’s soft hair and admire the man’s form uninterrupted. 

Merlin vows to find out more about Arthur, either by asking him directly or by his own dirty work. He certainly isn’t afraid to get his hands a little messy in the process.

His first victim is Freya, a kind nurse who sometimes looks a little too long when Merlin enters the room. If he wasn’t so painfully gay, he might actually find her attractive too with her long dark hair and big brown eyes. He comes up beside her as she’s standing at the main desk, taking calls apparently. When she hangs up, he strikes. 

“Freya, how are you?” Merlin asks the girl. He leans over the lip of the desk to appear nonchalant and hopefully unsuspicious. 

Freya flashes him a shy smile and brushes some hair behind her ear. “Hi, Dr. Emrys. I’m fine. And you?”

Merlin laughs although it’s obviously very forced. “Please, call me Merlin. Dr. Emrys is too formal for my tastes.”

Freya giggles, “Okay, Merlin. Anything I can do for you?” She avoids his eyes and distracts herself with reshuffling some paperwork. 

Merlin knows he has to strike or he’ll lose her to another caller. “Actually, yes. I was wondering if I could see Dr. Pendragon’s file if at all possible -” 

“And why would you want to see that, Dr. Emrys?” Arthur smooth voice says from directly behind him. Arthur approaches the desk to hand Freya a brown file folder stuffed with paper. He then turns to Merlin with eyebrows raised. By his attire (a form fitting white shirt with a solid black tie), Merlin can safely assume that the man isn’t seeing a patient for the long term. Usually Arthur wore his scrubs when he was expecting to spend copious amounts of time in A&E. 

Merlin swallows and meets Arthur’s eyes. “I was just wondering where you went to medical school.” It’s a pathetic response; Arthur knows that Merlin wouldn’t go fishing around for his personal file just to find out where he’d received the title ‘doctor’ before his name. 

Arthur takes a long look at Merlin. His eyes seem to burn into Merlin’s soul from the intensity. “Johns Hopkins in Maryland,” he slowly says without breaking the stare. “United States.” 

When Merlin doesn’t reply, Arthur turns to walk briskly away towards the lifts (and hopefully permanently out of A&E for the day). Merlin doesn’t so much as give another look towards Freya as he begins to proceed in the opposite direction. So much for trying to acquire Arthur’s files. The only thing he’d accomplished is to have Arthur know that Merlin’s trying to gather research.

Arthur: Why are you trying to get my information?

(He’d finally given in and added Arthur to his contacts a month ago. It doesn’t seem like they’ll be splitting ways anytime soon, so why not?)

Merlin: I was curious as to where you went to med school.

Arthur: Bullshit.   
Arthur: What did you really want to know? 

Merlin: Drive me home tonight and I’ll tell you.

Later that evening when his shift ends, Merlin immediately heads to where Arthur usually parks his car. He doesn’t care that he’s still sloppily dressed in his ill-fitting, hideously green scrubs or that his hair isn’t behaving properly with the wind; he just wants to face Arthur and receive whatever tongue lashing he has in store. 

Of course Arthur takes his sweet time going out to the parking lot. Twenty minutes pass before Merlin sees his figure emerge from the back entrance with his thick black overcoat keeping him insulated from the wind (a luxury Merlin isn’t blessed with). 

“Took you bloody long enough,” Merlin says through gritted teeth. Every muscles in his body is frozen stiff and his ears have become numb from the cold. 

Arthur shrugs as he unlocks the doors. He smoothly climbs into the driver’s seat without a break in stride. “Some of us have more pressing things to do than drive their annoying partners home.”

Merlin can barely wait to get into the (becoming) warm car. He rubs his hands together to try and regain enough feeling to buckle his safety belt. “Oh piss off. You know you love it when I ride with you.”

Arthur dramatically sighs and pulls out of the parking space. “Tell me why you were trying to get access to my information.”

Cut right to the chase, could he have expected anything more? Merlin just wants to disappear; there really can’t be anything more embarrassing than this right now. He hadn’t even decided on an appropriate response yet. “Because,” he finally says, “I want to know more about you.” There. That’s safe.

“You could have just asked me,” Arthur points out, as Merlin knew he would. “I would have told you where I went to med school. It’s not exactly classified information.”

“That’s not what I really wanted to know.”

“Yes, I’m not an idiot, Merlin.” Arthur comes to a stop at a light and turns to face Merlin. He has that emptiness in his eyes again; it makes Merlin even more curious as to what he’s hiding behind them. “What were you looking for?”

“Anything.”

“Like?”

“Why you act so strangely around me,” Merlin says once they’ve started moving again and Arthur’s gaze is directed elsewhere. “Why you were really driven to cheat on such a woman like Gwen. Why she was yelling at you the other day. Why don’t you trust me. Stuff like that.”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Merlin can’t make out his expression because of the darkness falling around them, but he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to read anything from it anyways. “It’s complicated.”

Of course it is. Isn’t is always? “That’s not an answer.”

“It fucking well is,” Arthur snaps, quickly turning his head to look at Merlin. “Don’t go looking into things you don’t want to know the answers to.”

Merlin shrinks back into his seat, defeated. But then he remembers something. He can remember seeing the tiny, almost invisible pock marks on Arthur’s elbow. Some looked fresh. “Were you high the other day? Is this that why you acted so unlike yourself?” It makes sense. Arthur never, never kissed him first or did cute things like hug him from behind. He did have a certain redness to his eyes as well, but Merlin had attributed that to sleep. 

And his hypothesis is confirmed when Arthur takes a beat too long to answer. “Yes, Merlin. I was.” Arthur never takes his eyes off of the road. “I engage in occasional drug abuse. Happy?”

No, he isn’t. That’s never something you want to someone to say. Merlin has seen firsthand what drugs do to a person; Will was never the same after he started using. “Why?”

Arthur takes another long moment to reply. The air is so loaded with tension that Merlin thinks he can cut it with a knife. Finally, the other man says, “I use it when the world feels like it’s breaking my shoulders.”

“Everyone gets stressed,” Merlin says. 

“Not like I do.”

“What was it?”

“The drug? Morphine,” Arthur replies almost shamelessly. His walls still stay tightly up. But morphine makes sense. It’s got to be easy for Arthur to get his hands on as a doctor and it does to a certain extent ‘numb’ the brain. He just can’t understand why Arthur would resort to such measures.

“You should stop.”

“No shit.” Even in the darkness, Merlin can practically feel Arthur rolling his eyes. 

Merlin decides Arthur probably doesn't want an intervention, even though he really needs one. He remembers with Will it was always best just to plant the seed of quitting and let him mull over and decide it for himself. So Merlin sinks back into his seat and drums his fingers on his thigh. He then changes subjects. “Does your wife know about me? My clothes were on the floor of the bedroom when she came in.”

Like last time, Arthur hesitates before answering. Merlin can see that there something the man desperately wants to say; however, he doubts Arthur will actually say it. He tries not to be disappointed when Arthur finally replies with, “No. I told her I had been cleaning out some of my old clothes from uni.”

Merlin nods. At least he doesn't have to worry about Gwen knowing that he's been screwing her husband behind her back for over six months. But that is a pretty pathetic excuse, one that he doubts any sane human being would buy. He doesn’t want to challenge Arthur, though, when he’s in the state he’s in. He’s been grilled enough for one day, even though Merlin still has a million questions. He can’t help but feel that there’s a specific reason why Arthur had gone into the bar that night other than the need for a drink.

The remainder of the ride is silent. 

When they arrive at the curb of his building, Merlin doesn’t get out immediately. The two men stare intensely out of the front windshield, as if waiting for the other to make the first move towards a goodbye. 

Because he’s certain Arthur won’t take the first step, Merlin does. He turns his head to face Arthur’s and when the other man doesn’t do the same, Merlin uses his index finger to do it for him. “Hey,” he softly says with a distinct level of affection in his voice. “I don’t care that you use. I mean, I do because I care for you, but it doesn’t change how much I think I’m falling completely, irrevocably, dangerously in love with you.”

He swears he can see the wall coming down just a little in Arthur’s eyes when the man leans in to kiss him. It’s gentle and fragile; like Arthur’s afraid Merlin may break if he pushes too hard. “You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?” 

“I’m not a good man,” Arthur replies, settling back in the seat away from Merlin and looking straight ahead. 

Merlin turns as best as he can to face Arthur. “Arthur, I don't care that you're married. I know it's so wrong. I know that -” 

“I want to be with you, Merlin,” Arthur cuts in. “I just don't know how to make it happen.” 

Merlin raises his hand to Arthur’s cheek and smiles when he can feel Arthur ever so slightly lean into the touch. “That time will come. I promise. Come in for a bit, though. We can make love in my bed for once and then watch my crappy cable.”

And they do. (Thankfully Will isn’t home.)

When it’s over and the two of them are laying naked in a mess of sheets, Merlin rests his head on Arthur’s chest. The man’s hand gently combs through Merlin’s hair as they relish in the quiet and closeness. 

Merlin can’t remember a time when he felt like this, warm and loved. “If you want to be with me, why are you still with your wife?” 

Arthur continues to play with Merlin’s hair. “It's more complicated than that.”

“You always say that.” 

Arthur scoffs, “Because it is. If I leave my wife, bad things will happen to a lot of people. Don't ask for anything more than that.” 

And even though Merlin really wants to, he keeps quiet. 

A few minutes later, Merlin begins babbling about work just to ease the tension that's fallen between them. It helps and soon Arthur’s back to throwing witty remarks and acting relatively normal. It goes without saying that both of them spend their Saturday morning curled up in bed, talking and kissing and acting like what they're doing isn't sinfully wrong.

 

***

Arthur: I need you.

Merlin: What?

Arthur: Take your break and meet me in my office.

Merlin: I only get twenty minutes.

Arthur: Then you better start trying to get it up. 

***

Merlin closes the office door behind himself. His cock is straining in his trousers (he’d daydreamed about what they’d be doing the entire elevator ride up with very promising results). He doesn’t lock the door; it’s sexier thinking they could be walked in on any minute. 

He takes one look at Arthur, who’s making his way across the room to him, and can’t bypass the sight of Arthur’s own erection pressing at his trousers. “Babe,” Merlin begins to say. “I want -”

Arthur pushes him up against the wall and takes a fistful of his shirt. He presses his mouth so hard against Merlin’s that his head bangs into the wall too. Rough, as their sex at work often is. “Don't call me ‘babe’.”

When Arthur’s mouth moves to his neck, Merlin takes the opportunity to remind him that he probably only has about fifteen minutes before he needs to get back downstairs. Arthur growls, deep and animalistic, and shoves Merlin in the direction of the two chairs before Arthur’s desk.

“We don’t have for both of us to get off together, so we’ll be doing this separately,” Arthur says as he begins to undo his own belt and fly. His cock practically falls out of his pants it’s so hard and heavy. 

Merlin walks over and stands across from Arthur. Mutual masturbation, that’s what Arthur wants. Hot.

He unzips his fly and tugs out his erection. But he doesn’t stop there. His trousers fall down to his ankles. After looking around for a moment, he decides to make use of Arthur’s overly padded desk chair. He sits down in it, wary of Arthur’s eyes following him, and spreads his legs out over the armrests. He grabs his own cock and begins to slowly pump up and down, all while maintaining eye contact with Arthur.

The other man begins to touch himself too, but from the other side of the desk. Arthur’s just tall enough that his cock is at eye level with Merlin so he can see action before him without having to strain his neck. 

Merlin’s cock is leaking so much at this point that he can use the excess as a lube for his two middle fingers. His eyes never leave Arthur’s as he moves one of his hands down to his entrance and massages the muscles around it. 

Arthur’s hand movements pick up. 

Merlin bites his lip as his finger dips inside himself and moans. 

Arthur has to use the desk for support as his cock twitches almost out of his own hand.

Merlin begins to pump in and out of his body, head thrown back and small moans escaping from his mouth. 

Arthur drips precome onto a picture of Gwen. 

Merlin withdraws his fingers just long enough so that he can change positions. He now faces the back of the chair on his knees with his fingers pointing straight upwards. The man then begins to ride himself, giving Arthur a good angle to watch his fingers disappearing inside of himself.

Arthur groans, and Merlin can hear the speed of Arthur’s movements pick up.

“Fuck it,” Arthur growls. Before Merlin can fully comprehend what's happening, he's being lifted out of the chair by Arthur’s rough hands and tossed over towards the desk. He glances up as Arthur sits down in his desk chair and pats his now fully exposed thighs. “Ride me.” 

Merlin moans merely at the thought. In a matter of seconds, he’s straddling Arthur’s hips and positioning the man’s cock underneath himself. “I knew you wouldn't be able to resist.” 

Arthur thrusts up into Merlin, without a condom or any protection, and begins to rolls his hips. “Shut up.” 

Merlin begins to bounce up and down on Arthur’s lap, moaning and cursing a constant stream. His hands are planted firmly on Arthur’s shoulders while his partner keeps an iron grip on his hips. If he's lucky, there might be bruises there tomorrow.

Arthur throws his head back against the headrest and makes equally loud noises. “This is so hot, fuck.”

Merlin begins to pump his cock, which is leaking pre come at an alarming rate over Arthur’s shirt. “I’m going to dirty that shirt again.” 

“And I’m going to come inside you,” Arthur quickly replies. His hips begin slamming into Merlin’s hard and fast. “Fuck, Merlin -”

Arthur’s eyes are squeezed shut as his breath hitches. Merlin can feel an odd wetness spread inside of him, and he instantly knows that Arthur’s just climaxed inside of him.

Like usual, the sight of Arthur’s face, blissed out and slack, bring Merlin to the brink. With Arthur softening inside of him, Merlin catches Arthur’s mouth in a long, sloppy kiss and comes in a burst all over the front of Arthur’s shirt. 

Arthur brushes some hair from Merlin’s face once the two of them settle and catch their breath. Merlin leans into his palm.

“Well,” Arthur says at last. “I suppose you'd better head back downstairs. I think you only have a few minutes left - “

Merlin presses his mouth to Arthur’s again one last time just to shut him up before he's forced to go back to work, sweaty and filled with Arthur’s seed.


	8. Chapter 8

It's nearly midnight and as usual, Arthur is planted in front of his laptop dealing with arranging his day tomorrow. Meeting with his father and other big names around eight, work until seven, meeting with Merlin at ten for a late dinner and a beer… Busy as usual and not a minute to himself. He doesn't hear his wife enter the living room and barely feels her sit down beside him on the sofa. He does, however, glance her way when she flips off the television which he’d been using for background noise. That’s how he knows it’s serious. 

“Arthur.”

“Hm?” he replies without tearing his eyes away from the computer screen.

Gwen clears her throat. “I - I think we should really talk to your father about getting a divorce.” 

Arthur snaps his head up. Divorce? That had been a word they'd only discussed briefly with no real hold to it. It has been a dream for both of them for years, but one they know won't happen. Uther would rather die than have this precious working relationship break apart. If Gwen’s father pulled out of working with Uther, their empire would fall. Jail would likely ensure for all involved - including Arthur and to a lesser degree, Gwen herself. “You know we can't.” 

“I think we should try.” 

Arthur shakes his head. It would be pointless; Uther would never allow it. And Arthur isn't so sure he wants it either. He doesn't fancy spending a decade in prison. “Why? What's not working for you? We’ve made this bearable for this long. What's different?” He closes his laptop. 

Gwen shyly looks away. Arthur recognizes that look; she's nervous. There's something she's hiding. “I’m in love.” 

She’s in love. Arthur should be overjoyed, even though she's his wife, but he can't. Love with someone else is a dangerous thing right now for them.

But is he in love too? 

Arthur leans forward with his hands cupping his face and elbows resting on his knees. His mind is spinning and his first instinct is to shoot up to make it stop. 

He's in love with Merlin. And it's terrifying. 

Gwen places her hand gently on Arthur’s arm. “Arthur? Are you alright?” 

Arthur straightens up. In a matter of minutes, his entire world is thrown upside down. “Who are you in love with?” He's pretty sure he knows the answer. 

“Lance.” 

“For how long?”

Gwen’s voice is unwavering as she admits, “I never stopped seeing him.”

So she had been sneaking around behind his back, seeing another man. Yes, he'd been seeing plenty of women, but never by choice. It almost feels like he's been cheated on. They'd never loved each other, not like how a husband and wife should, but he thought they'd been at a place where they could somewhat remain monogamous. Or at least have the decency to tell the other if they'd truly found someone else. 

“I think I'm in love with Merlin.” Arthur words sound strange to himself; they taste strange in his mouth; they feel strange to admit out loud. 

Gwen begins to rubs his back in slow circles. “I know, honey. I can see it in your eyes.” Her voice is calm and soothing to hear, like honey and lavender. 

Arthur wants to shoot up so badly it hurts. This is so much so quickly. “What are we going to do?” 

“I think we should call a lawyer and get this taken care of,” Gwen replies. 

That's never going to work. Uther would be furious if he knew the two of them had gone and done something behind his back like this. He’ll be even more mad when he finds out that both Gwen and Arthur have fallen for the partners he'd hand picked for them to deceive into signing up.

Gwen’s father will see no reason to continue his services. He’ll waste no time in naming every single person involved with the business. Even Uther isn't insane enough to think that's a good idea. 

“You know we can't do that,” Arthur snaps. “Do you want to spend years locked away? Because you know you'll be behind bars. You've done things.” 

Gwen sighs. “How about this: We stop wearing our rings. I’ll move in with Lance. We can be separated. We won't tell anyone so it wouldn't get back to Uther.” 

That seems incredibly risky. But Arthur doesn't have a better idea. “He’s going to find out. You know this already.” His tone has taken a pathetic, desperate tone to it. There is absolutely nothing he’s more afraid of than jail, or worse, his own father. 

“Are you afraid of your father, or are you afraid of Merlin?” 

That’s a perfectly valid question. Except he’s afraid of both. He’s afraid of what his father could do to him if he finds out that he’s accidentally fallen for one of his, dare he say it, his clients. Every moment of Arthur’s life has been dedicated to making his father proud, even though he’s been abused or manipulated throughout most of it. Pleasing his father has been the meaning of Arthur’s life for so long that the thought of going against his father’s wishes utterly terrifies him. The consequences can (and will) be severe.

On the other hand, he’s perhaps even more afraid of his feelings towards Merlin. It’s like an electric current buzzes through him whenever they touch, and he can always feel the faint impression of Merlin’s lips on his own for hours after they kiss. And now their relationship has blossomed into something more than just pleasuring each other. For fucks sake, they now refer to having sex as ‘making love’ rather than ‘hooking up’. The highlight of Arthur’s day is always when he sees Merlin, when they exchange quick smiles in the halls at work or just after they finish having sex and just stare at each other. 

When he’s with Merlin, the suffocating feeling of all his responsibilities seem to dull. Arthur wants to make Merlin happy. He actually, truly wants to be the one who wakes up beside Merlin in the mornings and argue over who’s turn it is to do dishes. He wants the domestic life that he’d never had with Gwen. Children, he really wants children. 

Gwen continues to rub his back as he absorbs all of this. She's much too kind; it’ll be her downfall someday. 

“I know that we’ve been preparing for this for years, but forgive me for being just shell shocked,” Arthur says. “I just never thought it would be happening.” He works his wedding band off his finger and tosses it onto the table. 

“This is why we never had kids, Arthur. To make this easier.” 

Arthur knows that all too well. He's always wanted kids - he's a pediatrician for goodness sake - so it’s been exceptionally painful for him being married for so long without being blessed with a child. But Gwen’s right. They've always known their marriage would end and it isn't fair to put children through that. “I know, Guinevere.” 

Gwen rests her forehead on Arthur’s shoulder after removing her own rings. He leans his own head against hers. 

“I will always love you, Arthur,” she softly says. 

Arthur can't bring himself to say the same to her. Instead, he brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses it. 

***

When Gwen begins to pack her things, Arthur has to leave. It’s too much happening at once for him, so much of an emotional toll on him that he knows he'd crack if he's around it. 

He'd known he was going to divorce Gwen. Hell, he'd wanted it more than anyone. But it feels so terrible now that it's actually happening (or their equivalent to it). It's awful, and he hopes that Merlin isn't too upset when he shows up unannounced at his doorstep. 

When Merlin opens the door, his surprise is blatantly sketched across his face. It's not like Arthur to just appear like this, especially dressed in his lounge clothes. 

“Gwen and I separated,” Arthur spits out. “I thought you'd want to know.” He's sure he looks like a hot mess at the moment, clad in his flannel pajama pants and white t-shirt with hair still slightly damp from his shower an hour ago. He just needs to tell Merlin about Gwen. It wouldn't feel right. 

Merlin’s expression reads like an open book. Arthur can see the mixture of relief and concern, in equal doses, across his features. “Arthur, I’m sorry.” 

Arthur places a hand on Merlin’s hip. His mouth curves into a small smile. “I’m not upset, not really. We've always known that it would end like this.” 

Merlin opens the door a little wider and Arthur can see glimpse of the mess behind. He vaguely wonders if Merlin’s ex is around, which would make for an interesting turn. 

“Then why… You said people would get hurt if you left her.”

Arthur can't truthfully answer that question without giving away too much information into his secret life. So he merely shakes his head accompanied with a shrug of his shoulders. Another day. His answer is one he hopes Merlin would rather hear. “I’ll deal with that in the morning. Right now I just want to be with you.”

Merlin’s mouth expands into a large smile from ear to ear. He embraces Arthur in a hug, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Arthur kisses his jaw once before settling his own arms around his waist. 

“How touching,” a voice says from a distance. The door opens to reveal a scrawny (slightly less than Merlin is) with a mop of mousy hair atop his head. His eyes are rimmed in red, a telltale sign of drug use. 

Merlin drops his arms from around Arthur and turns to face his ex. “Will, please. Can you -” 

“You must be Arthur,” Will says, shoving his hand forward. “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

Arthur apprehensively extends his hand and shakes. The other is wrapped possessively around Merlin’s waist. “Pleased.” 

“Is he spending the night, Merls? I’d like to know if he's -” 

“No, he's staying with me,” Arthur snaps. Will is rubbing him the wrong way; there's something terribly off about the whole situation. 

Merlin studies Arthur quizzically. “Isn't Gwen…?” 

Arthur shakes his head. “Go pack your clothes for tomorrow.” He gently pushes Merlin back into the flat and follows suit. 

It will never cease to amaze Arthur how two people can live in a flat so small. There's barely any space to walk it's so crowded with stuff. Clothes are strewn everywhere along with books and other various odds and ends. It's a miracle that Arthur can spot the pill bottle sitting on top of a stack of old comics.

It's a hallucinogen prescribed by a Dr. Leon Rowe. 

Leon. 

Arthur shoves the bottle into his pocket before anyone can notice. So Will is one of Leon's, eh? That complicates things. He’ll have to speak to Leon about cutting Will off until after Arthur tells Merlin about his business; the last thing he wants is for Merlin to accidentally stumble across this after meeting Leon at work (the man’s stationed at St. Bart’s A&E so a run in could possibly happen) and get a little curious. 

Less than ten minutes later the two of them are walking out of the door. Will is hopelessly high inside the flat, but with his supply tucked into Arthur’s pocket he probably won't stay that way for long. 

Merlin stows his clothes in the back seat of Arthur’s BMW then joins him the front. He gently places his hand on Arthur’s forearm. “Babe, are you okay? Really?”

Arthur turns the car on and adjusts the heat to complement the heat outside to avoid the question. However, it's Merlin and he can't delay too long or face even more questions. “I’m just in shock. Like I said, we knew we were going to divorce. I just never thought it was actually going to happen. We’d spent years talking about it without anything actually coming of it. It's just weird.” 

“Why did you stick around if you knew it wasn't going to last?”

Arthur begins to drive simply to give himself something to do. “It's complicated.” 

“I have nothing but time.” 

“Merlin, please,” Arthur practically begs. “Can we just drop it? I've had enough emotional turmoil for one night.” 

Merlin throws his hands up in air in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. Fine. I just don't understand.” 

And Arthur hopes he won't ever have to help Merlin to understand. He doesn't know what the man could possibly say to the awful truth. How could anyone react to ‘you're actually a part of a really fucked up plan by an insane drug King’? “I prefer it that way.” 

Arthur drives to the closest hotel, which just happens to be a quite nice one that looks like it isn't infested with bedbugs and lice. He can't take Merlin back to his own flat and face Gwen and he certainly doesn't want to spend the night with Will, so this is the next best option other than spending the night in his office. By the look on Merlin’s face when they enter the posh-looking lobby clearly states that the man hasn't spent a whole lot of time abroad in hotels. But given Merlin’s financial background, it isn't a surprise to Arthur. 

They ignore the look the employee gives them when they ask for a single room with a king sized bed. It's the first time Arthur’s ever really sort of admitted his growing bisexuality to anyone other than Merlin (obviously). He can't help but know that it's going to be the first of many unspoken judgements towards the two of them now that he's sort of single again. Oh god. He's single. It's such a strange thought. 

Their room is scarcely the same size as Arthur’s own bedroom (which is about half the size of Merlin’s entire flat). The bed is piled high with pillows and blankets are draped across it haphazardly. There's a television mounted across from it beside a small kitchenette. The bathroom seems to be of decent size; Arthur can only imagine how difficult it'll be in the morning to prepare for work with Merlin also fighting for the mirror. 

“Sleep or sex?” Merlin asks after investigating the entire room. He tosses his bag into the corner of the room then drapes his shirt and slacks for tomorrow across a chair. 

Arthur checks his watch. Two AM. “Well, considering that I have to be up in three hours, I'd say sleep. Work comes before getting laid.” 

Merlin nods and tugs out his own bedclothes. “Fair enough. What time do you typically wake up for work? I’ve only slept over on weekends.”

Arthur begins to peel back the blankets and toss the extra pillows to the floor. “Five. I have to be at the hospital by seven, so I leave at six-thirty.” He checks his phone then to make sure his alarm is properly set and to discreetly check his messages. 

Uther: Meeting tomorrow at eight. Be there. 

A reminder of the meeting. Great. Those are almost as bad as when Arthur has to go and scare someone into paying. They’re long and often full of Uther yelling at someone over something trivial for hours on end. If he misses, he might as well welcome certain death. 

“Arthur?” Merlin says, startling the man out of his thoughts.

Arthur drops his phone on the side table then drops onto the bed. “I’m fine, Merlin. Please.”

Merlin can probably see how not okay Arthur really is, but if he’s any sort of decent human being he’ll just let it slide. Thankfully, he does. Merlin gets into the bed beside Arthur and pulls the blankets up to their chins. Arthur loops his arm around Merlin’s shoulders to pull him into his chest, which Merlin does without hesitation. They share a long, deep kiss that makes the hurt in Arthur’s chest somewhat lift before exchanging goodnights and flipping the lights off. 

Fuck. He’s in too deep.


	9. Chapter 9

Merlin: We still on for tonight? 

Arthur: Yes. I’ll let you know when I'm free. 

Merlin: Sounds good. Just let me know. I should probably shower before going out on our first real date. 

Arthur smiles to himself after reading that last bit. Their first real, honest to god, date. Well, technically Arthur’s still married to Gwen, so he’s still really cheating on her. It doesn’t feel like it, though. He hasn’t seen Gwen in over a week. When he came home the day after they’d decided to separate, her things had all but disappeared. It was as if she’d never existed. Honestly, it’s a bit of a comfort. 

It’s one defiant step forward to get his life to where he wants it, and that certainly isn’t with Gwen. 

Arthur: Looking forward to it. Bring your clothes for tomorrow. You’re staying over. 

Merlin: Does this mean I’m going to get lucky?

Arthur: Definitely. I ca

“Arthur,” Uther calls, thus snapping Arthur out of his bubble of happiness and back into the real world. Arthur quickly stuffs his phone with the text unfinished, back into his pocket and out of sight. From the way Gwaine, who’s seated next to him, is making eyes at him, Arthur knows that his exchange with Merlin isn’t a secret from everyone. 

Arthur looks up and tries to shake the feeling of dread away. “Yes, father?” 

Uther pauses, clearly noticing how Arthur hadn’t been paying attention. His eyes bore into Arthur’s while making his son even more uncomfortable and honestly scared. Slowly, he replies, “How are things with Merlin Emrys?”

“Perfect,” Arthur quickly says. He doesn’t want to allude to anything that gives even the slightest bit of insight into his and Merlin’s relationship. It’s evolved into something private that he doesn’t want to share the details of. He’s never fallen in love with one of the other girls. The fact that he’s fallen so impossibly hard for Merlin is so dangerous for the both of them. 

Uther doesn’t seem to believe that by the way he pauses away. “Good. Have him signed up by the end of the month. We could use more agents working out of Mary’s.” 

The end of the month. Two and a half weeks until the affair is going to have to end. That’s roughly twenty days before he’s going to have to tell Merlin about everything. Twenty days left before Merlin will hate him forever. Just twenty days until Arthur’s light is snuffed out indefinitely. 

Arthur nods his head, obviously barely paying attention. He can’t make himself meet his father’s eyes, lest he reveal something he doesn’t intend to. Merlin will surely leave him, and Arthur doesn't know if he can handle that. He's grown too attached. 

Gwaine nudges him with his elbow and smiles at him when Arthur glances over. The look in his friend’s eyes show that he isn't so fooled by Arthur’s exterior. Arthur weakly smiles back. 

The remainder of the meeting is equally as rough. Sales are up, which should be a good thing except it can become very suspicious very fast. If too many people buy a certain prescription from the same doctor at the same pharmacy, wouldn’t it be a little obvious what's going on? Uther advises to up lift the prices, thus making it harder for some of their less fortunate customers to receive their fixes. 

Arthur doesn't pay a speck of attention after that. He almost never sells anymore; just manages the unruly customers along with Gwaine while apparently sleeping with prospective ‘team members’. His mind is still reeling from the evening’s earlier development. 

Twenty days. 

“Sir,” a smooth voice calls from somewhere behind Arthur. “May I make a suggestion?” 

Those words are almost never spoken and the entire room grows silent. Arthur turns around to see who exactly thinks they have authority to speak that way. In the doorway is a man slightly shorter than Arthur with a mop of dark hair and pale skin, much like Merlin. He doesn't think he's ever seen this man before, not around here at least. 

Uther surprises them all with a pressed smile and a gesture for the man to continue. 

The man steps further into the room, and Arthur is shocked by how his features stand out in the dim light. “For those of you who don't know me, my name is Mordred,” he says while ghosting his eyes over everyone in the room. Something sinister radiates off him. “I’m an anesthesiologist at Liberty Hospital, but recently I've been spending more time at St. Mary’s than at my own hospital.” 

Arthur perks up at the mention of his workplace. 

Mordred continues, “And I've gotten to know a few of my associates down in A&E. Dr. Merlin Emrys, whom you've mention, is one of them.”

Arthur sharply glances up and meets eyes with the man. There's a pause in his speech as they stare; a feeling of coldness washes over himself. From the way Mordred smiles menacingly, Arthur can tell that there's something he knows about his relationship. 

“I advise the younger Pendragon to perhaps delay signing Emrys. The man is not as naive as we thought,” Mordred finishes. “Maybe ask him to move in now that you've gotten the flat to yourself, Arthur?”

Shit. Shit. Arthur’s body temperature rises and his heart thumps wildly in his chest. He’s afraid to look at his father, even though he can feel the eyes of a dozen people fixed on him. His father’s eyes burn the most. 

Silence falls. 

Uther clears his throat, thus bringing the attention back to himself. “Thank you, Mordred.” 

The way Arthur then meets the eyes of his father is enough to send a chill down his spine. The end is near, so to speak. With just a snap of Uther’s fingers, Merlin will be gone from his life forever, and he fears that point has just been reached. 

When the rest of the members are dismissed an hour later, Arthur remains behind and seated. He and his father hold each other’s gazes as the people clear away. He’s determined to hold his ground and to keep from letting his father take away his one speck of happiness in his entire miserable existence. 

Uther crosses his arms and stands before his son. “Don't tell me you thought I wouldn't notice that missing wedding ring.”

Arthur instantly reaches over to his left hand to feel for the cold metal instinctively. He'd forgotten to put it back on before coming in. How could he have been so stupid? 

 

“And then you thought that Gwen could just move out and you could live your separate lives, is that right?”

Arthur’s silent. He merely keeps his expression stoic to avoid accidentally giving anything away, anything that his father could potentially use against him. 

Uther’s hand makes contact with Arthur’s cheek in a hard slap. It jolts Arthur, who'd thought he'd been out of being physically disciplined after university. He raises a hand to his face where the skin stings. 

“What did you think you were doing, Arthur?” Uther shouts, foaming slightly at the mouth and a ravaged look in his eyes. “You selfish idiot! You do even realize what you've done?” 

This brings back so many memories of his childhood, all the hours his father spent screaming at him about salutatorian instead of valediction or how he'd accidentally let a goal for the opposing team in when he'd been a goalkeeper for his high school football team. He's learned that it's best to simply take it. Anything he says will be held against him, even at thirty-one years of age. 

“And for what? A boy?” Uther spits. “You're willing to let all of us go to prison for the rest of our miserable lives for a boy. Don’t tell me you actually like a cock in your mouth.” 

Arthur must have flinched. 

“Oh,” Uther says. “You do like it. Disgusting, utterly disgusting.” He takes a step closer to Arthur so their bodies are nearly touching. “Well, your little queer plaything might have to meet an unfortunate end if you don't patch things up with your wife.” 

Arthur hates how weak he feels right now. His father towers over him in a symbolic way that describes his entire life. It’s a never ending cycle that he can't escape from. 

Uther kicks Arthur’s shin, hard. The man recoils from the blow. “Say something, you pathetic excuse for a son.”

Arthur meets his father’s eyes and stands slowly up. He tries to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over onto his cheeks. In a shaky, wavering voice he slowly replies, “I love him.” 

Those are the most defiant words Arthur has ever said to his father. 

The next slap he anticipates. The shouting he blocks out. The pure terror, he can't. 

***   
Arthur shows up to Merlin’s flat an hour late with handprints on his face and looking like an utter mess. He can only predict the reaction he’ll get from Merlin, who's probably really upset right now. But he has to come clean. Right now. 

When Merlin answers, he takes one look at Arthur before quickly ushering him inside with a face of equal parts anger and concern. (Thankfully Will isn't home again.) “What the hell happened to you?” Merlin exclaims as soon as Arthur’s in the door. 

Arthur walks across the room to Merlin’s bed, or his excuse as one, and sits down with his head in his hands. He doesn't even know where to begin, so he just starts off with the truth. “I’m a part of a drug ring that sells prescription drugs.” 

The shock on Merlin’s face is clear and evident. “You're serious right now?”

“Very.” 

“Holy shit,” Merlin says as he wavers. He grasps the kitchen counter as support while he stares at the wall behind Arthur. “You sell drugs. Okay. That's okay. No, that's really not okay. What the fuck, Arthur? Why would you do that?” 

Arthur laughs nervously. “That's a long story. I don't actually deal, though. I just do… other things. Whenever someone doesn't pay, I go and talk to them - “ 

“So you're like a fucking henchman or assassin or some shit?” 

Arthur shakes his head and like Merlin, he can't bare to look at his partner right now. It's humiliating to admit his entire pathetic existence. “No, I don't fight or anything. I’ve never killed anyone, so don't think that either. I just talk. But I also try and recruit. That's how Gwen and I met. It was arranged. Her father owns a pharmaceutical company and our marriage would be a great gain for my father politically. So he forced me to get her to fall in love with me, so to speak anyways, and after we wed, my father offered my father-in-law an offer he couldn't refuse -” 

Merlin interjects with, “And that's why you couldn't divorce her earlier. If you two separated, the bond between your dad and hers would be broken. Her dad could also name your father in a trial too.” Arthur can see the light bulbs beginning to go on in Merlin’s head.

Arthur smiles just a hair at that. Merlin’s catching on fast. “Yes, exactly. I could be named in such a trial, as could all of my friends and my ex wife. I would be looking at close to ten years behind bars, but since I’ve never actually directly dealt anything I can’t be charged with distribution.” 

Merlin shakes his head and looks up at Arthur. His skin is pasty and pale. “I can't believe this. All this time, you've been doing so many illegal things. You aren't the person I thought I fell in love with.” 

And he's about hate him even more. Once Arthur reveals that for the first few months, he'd only been with Merlin at the request of his father. It was before Arthur had fallen so dangerously in love and before he'd realized all he had to lose. Arthur’s breath hitches in his throat as he prepares himself for what he's about to say. He presses his palms into his eyes to try and stop the emotion that he fears will start pouring from them. “Merlin, I - you were arranged too.” 

Merlin’s face falls. His knuckles turn white as he grips the counter and his mouth is slightly agape with surprise. “You were using me. This whole time, you were using me?” His voice shakes with his anger and hurt. “Please get out.” 

Arthur stands and holds his hands out. “Merlin, I never -”

“I said get out,” Merlin replies in a stone cold voice. There’s a flash of pure anger across Merlin’s face that’s so unlike him that Arthur takes a step back, nearly tripping back onto the bed. “I never want to see you again.”

Arthur falls to his knees, which seem to have lost the ability to stand or work properly. His heart is shattered and his tears begin to flow freely down his cheeks. He’d known this was going to happen, that it would end like this. “I love you,” he chokes out. “I never intended for you to get hurt -”

“But you clearly don’t care if I get arrested or killed because of you and your stupid life choices!” Merlin shouts. He brings his fist down onto the counter with a loud smack. 

The sound makes Arthur jump. “I didn’t chose this! It was born into this. This has been my entire life, ever since I hit puberty and lost my baby weight I’ve been working. My father is the lord, you see. I didn’t have a fucking choice in the matter. You’re the only positive thing in my life right now.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Arthur, please. I need to process this. I don’t know what to do.” He wipes his hand across his eyes and then turns his back from Arthur. “Please go.”

Arthur shakily stands up, sniffling, and makes his way towards the door. “Text me,” he says, surprised by the vulnerability of his own voice. He gently reaches out to touch Merlin’s elbow, who’s only a few feet away and hunched over the countertop in an equally as distraught state. Merlin jerks his elbow away from Arthur and walks to the opposite side of the flat with a window overlooking the street.

This was supposed to be their perfect night. A beer and good conversation at the bar and then back to Arthur’s flat for love making and crap television. Instead it turned out to be the worst nights of his life.

Arthur leaves the flat with little restraint to hide his tears at the loss of his one chance at love.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear on my newly minted degree that I'll finish this fic by February.  
> (And if you were curious, ya girl got a Physics degree and feels ready to conquer the world.)

Merlin’s life has fallen into shambles. He can’t concentrate at work, which is a serious problem to begin with, and he can’t relax at home. He goes through his days like a robot with a single mission: simply to make it until seven when he can leave work.

Every time he passes Arthur at work, another wave of depression and sadness washes over him. The first time Merlin encountered Arthur was about two days after his confession. The man had dark circles under his eyes and the yellowing of bruises along his face and fresh purple ones in bloom on his knuckles. Their eyes met and for a split second Merlin could physically feel the pain the other’s feeling. But there’s nothing he can do. 

Merlin had been used in the worst way possible by a man he’d fallen hard for; hell, he still is falling for Arthur. However, it's been hard staying away. He can see the physical evidence that Arthur’s being beaten and hurt by an unknown hand, probably for not successfully recruiting Merlin. It leaves him feeling a little guilty and honestly pretty relieved too. He’d finally getting his life to where he wants it to be, with a solid job at least. But like he said earlier, that's not really working out for him either. 

***

Merlin knocks on Arthur’s door apprehensively. He has a suitcase loaded by his side and a backpack stuffed on his back. He’s dressed in layers with his scrubs from work still underneath.

When Arthur answers, it’s worse than Merlin thought. He has more bruises along his chest and upper arms, as evident by his lack of shirt, and here and there little scratches and gashes match. Merlin can only imagine how they’d gotten imprinted onto his body. He thinks he can see handprints in several of the marks, which is extremely concerning. “Merlin,” Arthur greets in a smooth voice. “What brings you here?” There's no sign that Arthur is pleased or upset by Merlin’s sudden appearance in his face or tone.

Merlin shifts in place, now unsure about coming here. But he’s standing in front of the love of his life, all packed up and ready to leave and embark on probably the stupidest thing he's ever done. “Can I come in?” 

Arthur stands in his doorway for a long moment then steps aside. 

The first thing Merlin notices from where he stands in the foyer is the mess of bloody gauze and medical supplies on the kitchen counter in the adjoining room. He can see where Arthur had discarded his white dress shirt and tie across the island. 

Arthur silently pushed past Merlin and into his makeshift infirmary. Merlin is quiet as he watches Arthur lift a packaged syringe from a box and rip it open with his teeth. “What do you need?” His hands shake as he dumps a clear liquid into a bowl on the counter. Merlin knows it's not water either. 

 

Merlin’s eyes widen when he watches Arthur pull out an alcohol pad and open it in a similar fashion as the syringe. 

“I asked you something.” Arthur swipes the pad across the crook of his elbow. “Or are you too preoccupied in watching me shoot up to answer it?” 

Merlin walks over to Arthur and gently takes the syringe from the counter. Surprisingly, Arthur doesn't make a move to take it from Merlin. Using his teeth the pull the syringe apart, he fills it with the morphine in the bowl completely. “I came because I had the foolish idea that we could run off to America together.” He grabs the tie from the kitchen island and tightly ties it around Arthur’s upper arm. “That maybe we could get away from this and start over.” He finds a vein close to the surface of Arthur’s skin and slowly injects the liquid into it. 

Arthur’s eyes close and his breathing slows. Merlin can almost see the rush of relief across his face. After a moment, Arthur blinks his eyes open. “Why did you do that?” 

“Do what?”

Arthur nods down at the small bead of blood forming on his elbow. “That.” 

Merlin wads up a cotton ball and presses it to the site with just enough pressure to make it stop bleeding. “When you love someone, you’ll do anything to help them feel better. Even if it's illegal and wrong.” 

Arthur’s words start to slow and slightly slur when he replies. “I didn't know you love me. You didn't tell me.” He rolls his head to the side lazily. “I got beaten because of you.” 

Merlin looks down at the cuts and bruises all along Arthur’s once perfect and whole body. He feels a pang of guilt in his gut. “I know. And I’m sorry.” He reaches over to a roll of cotton gauze and some more alcohol pads with the intention of dressing Arthur in new bandages. 

Arthur sways a little in place, showing how his morphine is kicking in. “Mordred told me that my father wanted to kill me, but - but that isn't a good idea. I have to get back with Gwen or I go to that place in that show with the annoying -”

“Jail?” Merlin thoughtfully supplies as he swabs the gashes along Arthur’s side, where it looks like he been kicked so hard the skin split open. 

Arthur nods his head. “Yeah, there.” 

So there's no way Merlin’s foolishly planned idea is going to work. Arthur is in no shape to travel, high or not. He probably would get arrested just after stepping into the airport. 

Merlin positions Arthur so he's leaning against the counter with all his weight supported so he doesn't topple over as Merlin patches him up. By the way Arthur’s face is slack and body limp, he can tell that he'd just injected way more morphine into Arthur’s system than that one day when Merlin had spend an hour sitting in the cold car while Arthur fought with Gwen. 

About ten minutes later, Arthur resembles a mummy more than a man from the waist up. He continues to stare blankly at the wall as Merlin cleans up the kitchen, disposing of the used needles and blood stained gauze wraps and wiping down the counters. 

“I love you, Merlin,” Arthur slurs. It's the first time he's spoken since Merlin finished dressing him. “I didn't know it until like yesterday but I do.” 

Merlin smiles at that. He'd be lying if he didn't feel a jolt in his lower stomach after hearing those words. Honestly, he wants Arthur in his life. He’s never felt so strongly about someone before in the way he does; however, he's still immensely hurt and confused about the other day’s revolutions. He doesn't want to fully commit to being with Arthur in that romantic, sweet way (even though he really missed the cuddling) until he knows for sure that no harm will ever come to him. 

A hand brushes Merlin’s back. “Do you love me too?” Arthur tries to nuzzle his face into the back of Merlin’s neck. This affectionate side of Arthur is something Merlin remembers from the last time he'd been around high Arthur. 

Merlin shrugs Arthur away. “Not now, Arthur. Go lay down.” He washes his hands in the sink, where he has to swat Arthur’s hands from joining in. 

Arthur eventually gets the idea and wobbles off to the bedroom, muttering under his breath about something Merlin can't fully hear. 

When Merlin follows into the bedroom a few minutes later, he finds Arthur laying face down on the uncharacteristically unmade bed, snoring softly. Merlin yanks the blankets up and around Arthur’s body. He leaves a glass of water on the nightstand as well as two pain relief tablets.

Merlin spends the night beside Arthur to make sure he doesn't wake up confused or sick. And thankfully, he opens his eyes the next morning from the shrill beeping of Arthur’s alarm and not him puking or screaming in pain. 

Arthur stirs and slaps his hand down on the clock. He rolls onto his back and almost seems surprised to find Merlin beside him. Apprehensively, Arthur sits up, as if to test if Merlin’s actually awake or not, then slips out of bed in one graceful motion. 

Merlin props himself up on his elbows to show he isn't asleep. As if anything could make it through that awful alarm it would be a miracle. “How are you feeling?”

Arthur looks over his shoulder at Merlin quickly. He pauses in his journey to the bathroom and then turns to face him. “Sore, depressed, angry. The usual.” He shrugs his shoulders then continues back on his path. 

Merlin tosses his legs over the side of the bed and hurriedly pads after Arthur. He hates hearing his lover say such awful things; it breaks his heart more than it already is. “Do you want me to give you a boost?” he says with his head poked into the bathroom. 

Arthur turns the water on in his very spacious and luxurious looking shower. “Of what? Morphine? No thanks. I’m still recovering from the trip last night.” He drops his dress slacks, which he'd probably been wearing for a solid day now by the look of them. “But thanks for that, by the way. You gave me about twice as much as I usually take and it was delightful.” 

That would explain how exaggerated the symptoms seemed last night. Merlin had suspected just that after he'd injected the stuff. He shamefully glances away. “I was only trying to help.” 

“I know,” Arthur sighs as he steps into the shower. “It's just funny that a few days after I tell you I'm a criminal and you kick me out, you’re the one giving me my fix.” 

Merlin steps further into the bathroom and closes the door behind himself as if someone else actually was in the flat too. “You were in so much pain. I could tell.”

Arthur dips his head into the water. Merlin think it's strangely intimate to be watching Arthur shower like this, and since he needs to get going for work as well, he lifts his own shirt above his head. 

“I’m always in pain and you didn't seem to care before,” Arthur counters. He swallows when he sees Merlin stripping and quickly fixes his eyes elsewhere. 

Merlin kicks his pants across the bathroom floor. “That was before I know what was causing you the pain. Now that I know, I just want to make it go away.” He steps into the steam filled shower. 

Arthur moved aside to let Merlin through then continues with washing his hair. “That's very noble of you.” 

Merlin waits until Arthur’s finished rinsing his hair out then tugs on the man’s elbow. “I love you.” 

Arthur doesn't move for a handful of long seconds. He simply stares at Merlin with an unreadable expression on his face. “I love you too,” he says at last. 

Merlin’s heart fills and swells to an impossible size. He'd heard Arthur say those three little words to him before, but now it's different. Arthur isn't high or upset. He's raw and real. From the way Arthur is smiling, he can tell the man means it. 

Merlin throws his arms around Arthur’s neck and kisses him, slow and passionate. The water hits their faces from the shower and the steam envelops them like a warm blanket as they intertwine their fingers and move their mouths in time with one another.

He doesn't fully forgive Arthur by a long shot, but there's no denying that what they have is something special. In time, Merlin hopes to restore a peace among them and be able to live a normal life - one not filled with Arthur’s side business and his addiction. But when one is so passionately in love, there's always a way. 

Arthur glides his hand down Merlin’s back and to the curve of his arse. He flattens his hand across it and pushes their hips flush. Merlin can feel the beginnings of Arthur’s erection press against his upper thigh, which spurs his own arousal. 

“I love you,” Arthur whispers in Merlin’s ear after the kiss breaks. The man peppers a trail of open mouthed kisses all along Merlin’s jaw and down his neck. “So fucking much.”

Merlin backs himself up against the shower wall where the water from one of the heads hits his arms and chest. His hand tangles in Arthur’s hair, just how he likes it, and feels the prick of teeth bite down on his collarbone. 

Arthur doesn't stop at Merlin’s neck. He continues to mouth his way down and across Merlin’s chest and stomach. His cock twitches when he realizes what's about to happen; Arthur’s never put his mouth on Merlin’s member before and it's about to happen. Merlin moans at the mere thought. 

Arthur’s on his knees now and slowly kisses along Merlin’s hips. Occasionally his chin brushes against Merlin’s cock and sends him into a fit of noises. Suddenly, when he least expects it, Arthur takes Merlin into his mouth. 

Needless to say, Merlin yelps at the beautiful feeling that comes from it. 

Like the inexperienced bloke he is, Arthur just lets Merlin’s cock sit in his mouth for a second or two, which Merlin is perfectly okay with right now as his member reaches full hardness. Arthur hesitantly runs his tongue across the tip and slit while watching Merlin’s expression. 

When Merlin shuts his eyes and makes a small kitten noise, he supposes that Arthur figured out that he likes it. His tongue grazes the tip once more and then slides down the length of his shaft until it hits the back of Arthur’s throat and Merlin sees stars. 

Merlin mumbles something about more and deeper as he shoves Arthur’s face closer to his hips. Arthur grips Merlin’s hips so hard he might leave bruises behind. Some water falls into his eyes, thus blinding Merlin and forcing him to keep his eyes squeezed shut and twist his fingers tighter into Arthur’s hair. His hips begin to roll involuntarily, fucking Arthur’s mouth the same way the man did that first night at the bar. 

Merlin comes so hard that his knees buckle. He bangs his head against the shower wall with a shout in his pleasure. 

Arthur chokes on Merlin’s seed and starts coughing it up beside the man’s feet. It's probably the least sexy thing that Merlin’s ever seen, but somehow Arthur’s inexperience is a turn on to him. He likes thinking he's the only man Arthur's fooled around with. 

Merlin falls down to his knees too, forces his eyes open despite the string of water in his pupils, and pushes Arthur onto his back. He takes Arthur’s cock in his hand and begins to pump it, working it hard and fast. It takes only a few strokes before Arthur squeezes his eyes shut and comes into Merlin’s hand. 

He lets the mess wash down the shower drain, then he shakily stands. “Well, I can't say that was completely unexpected.” 

Arthur gets to his feet as well. He takes Merlin’s hand and kisses the back of it. “Yes, but I loved it.” 

Like almost every other time they've slept together, Merlin shares a deep and passionate kiss with Arthur that leaves his knees weak and heart racing. 

Needless to say, they're both late to work that morning.


	11. Chapter 11

In all his life, Arthur’s never been more terrified of his father. He’s currently standing before Uther with a bloody nose and more bruises and cuts than he can count, one good hit before he’ll be out cold. And to think that it’s all because Arthur fell so passionately in love with Merlin, which any parent should be overjoyed with. But not Uther. He’d rather murder his own son than have him not only with a man but also break up his precious working relationship.

The warehouse is empty save for Arthur and his father. It’s humid and loud from the ventilation and claustrophobic from the stacks upon stacks of boxes lining every wall and aisle. They stand facing each other with varying degrees of injury. By that, Arthur means he’s bleeding and in severe pain while his father remains relatively untouched. Arthur made the mistake of throwing a punch. 

“I will kill him if you don't sign him,” Uther sneers through his teeth. “You know I will in a heartbeat. I’ve killed for much less than that.”

Arthur shakes his head and a sharp, painful slap goes across his cheek. He's becoming numb to the pain that seems to constantly afflict him. Now it’s just bruises on top of his bruises, not an inch of skin hasn’t been defaced in some way or another. “I’ve barely told him -” 

Another kick to his gut soon follows, thus forcing Arthur to double over as he gasps for air. He falls to the ground as another wrenching kick sends his feet flying. For a long second, Arthur sees stars while he lays motionless on the cold concrete inside the warehouse. His head begins to pound, signalling that he did indeed bang his head pretty damn hard. When he sits up, he feels the overwhelming urge to vomit. Concussion. 

Uther bends down to Arthur’s eye level. “Your time is slowly running out, Arthur.” His voice is just as cold, if not pure ice. It sends chills down Arthur’s spine. “Remind me again why this lowly, pathetic gay is worth your life?” 

Arthur then leans over, and in an ultimate form of defiance, empties the contents of his stomach onto Uther’s shoes. “Because I love him,” he manages to choke out.

Then he sees black.

***  
Arthur wakes up in his own bed hours - or maybe days - later. He isn’t sure. All he knows for certain is that his wounds are wrapped meticulously and that Merlin’s softly snoring across the room in a chair. How did he get here? Surely he didn’t drive himself. Someone must have picked him up, taken him home, and gotten Merlin. 

He tries to sit up with a few excruciating result. His entire body aches to no relief while his brain continues to try and break out of his skull. His eyes are blurry and slow to the point where he’s afraid he’s lost the ability to speak. 

Suddenly, the door slowly opens, revealing a very tired looking Gwaine carrying a tray with a bag of what appears to be morphine and a set of medical supplies needed to maintain an IV port. Arthur then looks at his right arm and sees the snake of tubes and the neat injection sites of two separate liquids. He turns his head and barely can make out two bags - one empty and one nearly full - hanging about the bed and held together with surgical tape. 

Gwaine kneels down beside Arthur after glancing at Merlin and smiling. “This is the first time he’s slept since I brought you here.” He begins the process of removing the needles from Arthur’s arm. 

Arthur opens his mouth to reply, but Gwaine shakes his head. 

“Don’t try,” he says as he places the used needles in a bag. “You have a bad concussion. I don’t want you to over exert yourself.” He swabs the empty port with some alcohol pads. “You’re bad off, mate. I would’ve sent you to the hospital, but I couldn’t risk the questions. Lucky for you, all your friends are doctors.” He laughs at little at that. “So we’re going to patch you up here. Leon and Percy should be back with food soon and Elyan is with Gwen, making sure she’s doing alright.

“Merlin’s been distraught,” Gwaine continues. “He’s beside himself thinking that he’s caused this. Poor lad.” He finishes cleaning the crook of Arthur’s elbow and starts to prepare for a new site.

A pregnant pause follows soon after that extends into a number of minutes. 

Gwaine clears his throat and ties one of Arthur’s neckties around his upper arm to make his veins pop. “We want out - all of us - and soon. I want a family, Arthur. I can’t do that with Uther breathing down my neck. I’ve met a girl - Elaine - and I want to marry her.” He smiles just a twinge at the mention of her name. 

Arthur returns the grin, however briefly. So he isn't the only one who wants nothing more than to be freed of the chains of his father’s clutches. It's an immense comfort to know that, and even more so to know he has people behind him. 

A soft prick brings him back to reality. The pain is quickly followed by a rush of relief from the pain medication. His head sinks back into the pillow. 

Gwaine finishes setting up his makeshift IV stand. “We’ll talk more about that when you're feeling better.” 

The man begins to clean up the small mess he'd accumulated on the bedside table while Arthur stares longingly at Merlin, who continues to sleep soundly across the room. If what Gwaine said is true, Merlin could use the sleep. 

Soon, the morphine lulls him to sleep.

***

When Arthur wakes, Merlin is sitting in the end of the bed. He’s gently tracing Arthur’s ankles over the blankets with a loving smile on his face. 

“Hey,” Arthur whispers and twitches his foot to gain Merlin’s attention. His chest hurts from just the mere action.

Merlin’s smile widens and his eyes brighten and twinkle. It's evident how happy just seeing Arthur awake and conscious makes him. It makes Arthur’s heart swell. “Hi.” 

Arthur chooses to simply smile at his boyfriend rather than speak, just to relish in the happiness and elation that always fills him when Merlin is around. 

Thankfully, Merlin fills the space with his own babbling. “I’m so glad to see you awake. You’ve had me worried for hours. I can’t believe I slept through when Gwaine changed your port! I wanted to see you.” He pouts like a child in a way that makes Arthur chuckle. With a bit of pain in his chest, of course. 

Merlin places his hand gently on the side of Arthur’s face. “I love you.” 

Arthur leans into the touch then turns his head to kiss Merlin’s palm. “I love you too. So much.” 

Merlin closes the gap between the two of them and presses his lips firmly to Arthur’s. He anchors their faces together using the hand on Arthur’s cheek and takes the initiative to slip his tongue into Arthur’s mouth. 

They messily kiss for a good five minutes until Arthur’s practically withering for more. 

“Where’s Gwaine?” he asks, pulling away. 

Merlin begins to mouth at Arthur’s neck, having moved upwards to straddle his waist without actually putting any weight on Arthur. “Working on arranging a meeting with the others for tomorrow. You know, to take down your dad or whatever. Busy, in other words.” He speaks of the subject so casually. 

“Mm,” Arthur says as he tilts his neck to allow Merlin for more room. “I should be helping.” 

Merlin bites down on Arthur’s collarbone, which hurts a little given that he’s in pretty rough shape to begin with but in a good way. “No, you should be resting.” 

Arthur lifts his free hand to tilt Merlin’s head back up to face his own. Before they kiss again, he says, “I’m the bigger part of the problem.” 

Their tongues tangle in a heated kiss, and Merlin tugs on Arthur’s hair. Arthur can feel his pants fit a little more snuggly and when Merlin finally put his weight on Arthur’s hips (which only accompanies a few seconds of dull pain), his partner’s only slightly hard erection pokes into the soft fleshy part of his side. 

They break apart with their lips only mere centimeters from each other, panting into the other’s mouth and maintaining a conversation spoken only in flicks of their eyes and blinks of their lashes. 

“Marry me,” Arthur breathes. 

Merlin replies with, “You’re technically still married to Gwen.” 

“It doesn’t have to be legally.”

“Symbolically, then?”

“Exactly.”

Merlin pauses and pulls back. The dimming sunlight casts shadows across his face, and Arthur strains his eyes to better see his boyfriend. “Why?”

Arthur grasps Merlin’s elbow and gently rubs his thumb across his smooth skin. “Because I love you, and I want to have a few days of happiness before shit hits the fan.” He has this awful, sinking feeling that something absolutely terrible is going to happen once Uther catches wind of what’s going to go down. And Mordred… Arthur knows there’s something off about him. He just wants a bit of light in this time of struggle and darkness. Hell, he deserves this one thing for himself. 

Merlin bends down and presses their mouths together in a quick chaste kiss. “Yes,” he replies. “A thousand times yes. Let’s do it now, while Gwaine is busy.” He gently pushes off of Arthur despite housing a erection in his trousers that’s just a little more than obvious. Arthur watches Merlin dig through his backpack and pull out a Sharpie marker. Seconds later, he rejoins Arthur on the bed. 

“Arthur Pendragon.” He settles down on Arthur’s lap with the marker uncapped in his right hand. “You are the most complicated, god awful asshole I’ve ever met. But you also make me feel loved, and you look after me in a way no one else ever has. You are the first person I think about when I wake up and the last one before I go to sleep. You are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He takes Arthur’s left hand and begins to draw a line across the base of Arthur’s ring finger. “With this ring that I’m drawing onto your finger, I take you, my wonderfully broken man, to be my symbolically married husband. I promise to be loyal and love you in every way possible. I vow to never leave your side and help you get back into good health and out of this mess you’ve gotten yourself into. I will respect you and care for like no other. Have I mentioned that I’ll love you as long as I live?” 

Arthur feels a weight on his chest as he watches Merlin draw on his new wedding band. It’s simple and beautiful, nothing like his wedding with Gwen. He blinks away his tears when Merlin is preoccupied with his ring, even though it technically isn’t legal and is only just a show to make the two of them feel closer. 

When the band is filled in and dark, Merlin hands Arthur the marker. “Your turn, love.”

Arthur tries to shift upwards a bit to better see his soon-to-be husband. “Merlin Emrys, you are the light in my darkness. You are the reason I haven’t killed myself to escape this world of pain and depression that I inhabit. You accepted me and my baggage and problems. You never left me. You give me love and happiness in a way I didn’t think was possible for someone like myself.” He takes Merlin’s left hand and extends his ring finger. Like what Merlin did for him, he begins to color in a band across the width. “With this poorly drawn ring, I take you to be my symbolically wedded husband. I will never stop loving you and I will go to my deathbed giving you the companionship and life you deserve. I never want to leave your side, and I promise you I never will.”

He finishes drawing on Merlin’s wedding ring and places the marker beside himself on the bedside table. “Can I kiss the groom?” 

Merlin laughs and leans in, looping his arms around Arthur’s neck and kisses him deeply and slowly. It gives him a jump in his stomach to think that he’s kissing his husband, the man he’s chosen for himself. For the first time in his life, he’s doing something entirely for himself. It’s enough to make him actually start crying unabashedly. 

Merlin breaks the kiss and buries his face into Arthur’s neck. “I now pronounce us Dr. and Dr. Pendragon, husband and husband.” Arthur can feel the wetness of Merlin’s cheek on his skin, signalling that he’s not the only emotional one right now. He wraps his own arms around Merlin’s waist to press him against his chest. 

They sit like that for a while, clinging to one another and crying softly. Arthur isn’t entirely sure why Merlin is this teary, but he knows he himself is absolutely elated to be married (albeit not legally) to the man of his dreams. They’ve been through so much together with a complicated future ahead of them, but it feels so right to be with Merlin in this way right now. Arthur kisses the top of Merlin’s head and nestles his face into his hair. 

“Don’t forget we need to consummate the marriage,” Arthur teases. 

Merlin laughs. “We can get on that when you’re feeling better. I don’t want to worry about hurting you as I fuck you to high heaven as your husband.” 

“Why don’t you practice now?” Arthur suggestively replies. “You know, stick some fingers up there, get me all stretched out. I don’t want to be in too much pain on our postponed wedding night.” 

Merlin raises his eyebrows. “I wasn’t serious about fucking you.” 

“I am.” It feels like time that Arthur finally returned the favor, and as a husband to the most wonderful man in the world, he wants to share this experience with him. 

Merlin’s eyes widen, and he grabs a pillow from beside Arthur on the bed. “Gwaine might walk in.”

Arthur shrugs. “So what?” 

Merlin smiles and begins to pull down Arthur’s trousers as best as he can. “This is going to be so hot.” 

Arthur lifts his hips as Merlin slides the pillow underneath. The action hurts, but the anticipation is so sweet. “We always have such hot sex.”

Merlin reaches over into the nightstand to pull out the lube housed there while stroking Arthur’s cock with his opposite hand, getting it to peak hardness. “I’ve been waiting for this forever.” 

Arthur lets his head fall back onto the pillow with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensations of Merlin’s hand. It doesn’t take long before he’s fully erect. 

The first movements are slow and feel good, just Merlin massaging the area around Arthur’s entrance with light fingertips. The lube is cold and sends shivers up his spine. When the first poke of a finger intrudes, it sends a spike of pain throughout his body. He must have made some sort of noise of discontent because Merlin pauses. After assuring him that it’s all good, Merlin continues to touch Arthur’s cock while gently pushing his finger further and further into his body. 

“Fuck,” Arthur moans, spreading his legs even farther apart as Merlin inserts a second finger. “So good.” The stretch of his muscles is starting to give away to waves of pleasure that’s augmented by Merlin’s hand on his erection. 

Merlin is greatly encouraged by this and wastes no time in adding a third finger. 

Arthur’s back arches off the bed. His body aches and hurts, but it’s absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of Merlin’s fingers inside of him. “More, Merlin. More.”

Merlin groans removes his hand from Arthur’s cock. The man can only assume what’s happening when he can hear the rustle of fabric and the unzipping of a fly. Merlin rams his three fingers in and out of Arthur relentlessly as he presumably starts playing with his own erection. 

A twist of fingers hits Arthur’s prostate. He screams in pleasure.

The sound of a hand moving up and down on a cock radiates from his lower half. 

His erection thumps against his stomach as he moves his hips in time with Merlin’s fingers. 

“Fuck me,” Arthur moans. “Dammit, Merlin! Fuck me hard. Now. I want you inside me.” He craves the feeling of Merlin encased inside him, wants to feel filled and dirty with his seed. He wants more.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Merlin mumbles. “Let me get a -”

“No,” Arthur quickly says. “I want to be dripping in your come.” 

Merlin moans, deep and throaty. “Not a problem at all.” He moves Arthur’s legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, nearly straight up, and positions his head at Arthur’s entrance. 

Arthur’s groan as Merlin enters is loud. “Yes, yes,” he shouts as Merlin wastes no time in beginning to thrust. “Deeper.” His knees are so bent that they’re nearly hitting him in the face with every movement of Merlin’s hips. It feels so impossibly good, better than he could have ever imagine. 

As Merlin thrusts, Arthur shouts more and more. It’s a mixture of profanities and comments like “deeper” and “harder” that is reciprocated with Merlin moaning and quickening the pace. Merlin echoes with “I know” and “So tight” among other obscene ramblings. 

When he comes between their bodies, Arthur nearly blacks out from the immense pleasure. It’s unlike anything he’d ever felt before. 

Merlin climaxed just seconds after and fills Arthur with his seed. 

And Arthur fucking loves it. 

When they’re both finished and laying side by side, naked and sweaty, Arthur looks over at Merlin. 

“I love you so much, husband,” he whispers.

Merlin kisses his cheek. “I love you so much, husband.”

And Gwaine chirps in with, “And I’d love it if you closed the door next time you decided to fuck each other.”


	12. Chapter 12

Merlin sits beside Arthur at the round table in Arthur’s dining room. His left hand rests on the tabletop, showing the dark band that he’s had Arthur redraw on every morning for the past two weeks. It never ceases to make his lips twitch up in a smile every time he sees it. Their official wedding rings, they’ve decided, will be exchanged during their legal marriage. The date for that, however, is yet to be determined. Merlin can only hope it’ll be sooner rather than later, but with everything that’s going on he doubts it. It’s hard enough finding time to simply exchange an embrace with Arthur, let alone disappear for a couple of hours to get married. Besides, they’d have to wait until Arthur legally divorces Gwen before they can be wedded in the eyes of the law. 

He’s brought back to the situation in front of him once he hears his husband’s voice, hushing the low level conversations around them. All around the table sit individual members of the drug ring with the exact same intentions as Arthur: to be free from Uther and to live their own lives free of the illegal crap they’ve been put up with for years.

“The first priority will be to get rid of Mordred,” Arthur clearly says once everyone is settled and quiet. His injuries are healing nicely; there are only a few shadows of yellow along his cheekbones and chest with only a minimal bit of pain that accompanies movement. (Merlin thinks. He still watches Arthur shoot up at least once a day, but the amount he loads into the syringe is diminishing daily.) 

Morgana laughs. “And how do you propose that?” She sits directly to Arthur’s left around the circular table looking as smug as ever. She’s been helpful these past few weeks, but sometimes Merlin gets the feeling that she’s up to no good. 

Arthur’s eyes narrow. “Thank you, Morgana, for allowing me to segway into that.” He clears his throat and shifts his weight in his seat. “We have a chapter meeting on Saturday. I’ll shoot him after it’s over, once everyone is cleared out and it’s just us, him, and my father.”

The room grows silent. Merlin’s hand tightens on the tabletop. Arthur had plans to actually kill someone, to take a life. And he spoke so casually of it! Merlin abruptly meets Arthur’s eyes, where he can see how completely unsure Arthur actually is about the situation. There's fear buried deep down. As far as Merlin knows, Arthur’s never had the blood of another man on his hands. Sure, he’s beaten the shit out of several rival ring members, but he’d never killed anyone before. The fact that Arthur’s proposing it now says something serious about his intentions.

“Arthur, you can't be serious, mate,” Leon finally says, breaking the silence at last. “You can't just walk up and shoot someone point blank.” 

Elyan, whom Arthur has told Merlin is Gwen’s brother, stands up. “Sir, in all honesty I think it would be -”

Arthur holds up a hand and the room falls silent again. Elyan takes his seat again as Arthur takes his place, full of newfound confidence that Merlin can sense is every bit forced. “This needs to be done. If we take out Mordred, we take out Uther’s right hand. Without him, there will be no one to hold up the ring. Uther won't have the power or strength to keep dealing and all of us will finally be able to go about our own ways.” 

It sounds almost too good to be true, that someone could kill another and have all their troubles erased. Merlin has a persistent sinking feeling that this will not end well. He takes a deep, steadying breath and leans back. This is something he needs to talk with Arthur about. He hopes that the man can see the possibilities and consequences that can arise from a brash action like this. But Arthur’s a stubborn man. There probably won't be anything that can change his mind. 

“And what about Uther?” Morgana pipes up. “Surely you don’t think he’ll just sit back and watch you murder one of his top recruits.” And there’s that smug look again, the one that Merlin would love to smack right off her face. 

A fleeting look of panic flashes across Arthur’s exterior. After a long moment of silence, he replies with, “Someone will have to restrain him, make sure he doesn’t have any weapons-”

Suddenly a knock penetrates through the room. It’s loud and sharp, full of force. Arthur glances at Merlin, who instantly gets the idea that he’s meant to go and answer it. Like the obedient devotee to his husband as he is, Merlin excuses himself from the table. The knocking is persistent even as Merlin approaches the door; although he doubts Arthur would hear it over the ruckus that’s erupted in the other room.

Merlin apprehensively looks through the peephole. Standing in the hallway is a man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes against strikingly pale skin. Immediately Merlin gets an uneasy feeling that heightens as he unlocks and opens the door. 

“Can I help you?” Merlin asks. He keeps the door mostly closed, thus concealing the interior of the flat from the mysterious visitor. Arthur’s voice can easily be heard in the background as he goes on, which is extremely concerning since they are discussing a murder. 

The man, who looks even younger now that Merlin’s face to face with him, weakly smiles at Merlin. “Yes, I was hoping to speak with Dr. Pendragon. I have urgent news regarding his father.”

Merlin shifts the door an inch closer to being shut. “He’s currently busy, but I’ll pass it along to him if you tell me.” He meets the man’s eyes for the first time, and it sends shivers up his spine. 

“He’s dead.”

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you,” Merlin quickly says, shaking his head. “It sounded as if you just said that his father is dead.” 

The man shakes his head. “You heard me correctly. Uther is dead, killed by a rival named Odin just a few hours ago.” While Merlin gawks, he continues,” And I’d appreciate it if you’d tell his son that I’m looking to step up into his father’s former position. You are his boyfriend, are you not?”

Before Merlin can reply, a hand firmly presses to his side. 

Arthur clears his throat to assert his authority, and Merlin shrinks back into his husband. “Mordred,” Arthur greets in a monotone voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your father,” Mordred smoothly says, expression stoic and unchanging. “He's dead.” 

Arthur freezes for a moment. His grip on Merlin’s hip tightens. “And I'm supposed to believe that?” Merlin swears he can hear Arthur’s breath hitch.

Mordred nods. “Of course. Would you have any reason not to?”

Merlin glances up at Arthur, who’s face is blank and emotionless per usual. Behind it all, he can see that Arthur isn’t completely unaffected by this turn of events. Discreetly, he wraps his arm around Arthur’s waist and gently rubs his side with the smallest of movements. 

Silence stretches on as Arthur and Mordred stare at each other in a silent competition. Finally, Arthur breaks the stretch with, “Why are you telling me this?”

Mordred’s perfect face stretches into a smile that sends shivers up Merlin’s spine. “I came because I want you to know that I’m going to be the one to replace him.” 

Merlin can hear the gears turning in Arthur’s head. If he takes over his own father’s position, it would be all too easy to just disband it. Nobody would have to get hurt, he wouldn’t have to kill anyone or do anything else illegal. It would be simple and clean. However, if Mordred took over… Well, it would probably be a bloodbath. 

“Let the best man win,” Arthur utters in a smooth, unchanging voice. “You’re going to need all the luck you can get, Mordred.” With that, Arthur slams the door. 

Before Merlin can offer any words of consultation, Arthur shakes his head and walks back into the dining room to his friends and gets back down to business, stoic and emotionless as ever. 

 

***

Merlin stands over the kitchen sink, washing the dozen or so wine glasses left over from the meeting. He stares blankly out of the window over the sink down at the street below as his hands perform the simple task, thus leaving his mind to wander. He knows Arthur is upset deep down after hearing of the day’s news - who wouldn't be? - but he also knows Arthur is too proud to admit it. He doesn't want to upset Arthur’s pride by showering him in affection, yet Merlin knows that's what Arthur needs right now whether he likes it or not. 

So Merlin dries his hands on the dish towel and sets aside the glass in his hands with the intention of soothing his husband.

****

“Honey,” Merlin says as he enters the dining room. He begins to roll the sleeve up Arthur’s arm to prep for the action he knows will soon follow such a stressful, dark meeting coupled with an even worse bout of bad news. It’s not his idea way for Arthur to cope, but at the moment he sees no other alternative. 

Arthur gently pulls his arm away from Merlin and places his face into his palms. From the way Arthur refused the one substance he depends so heavily on, Merlin can tell it’s very serious. Despite his negative feelings towards Uther, Merlin can tell Arthur is even more upset than he could have possibly imagined. 

Merlin rubs large circles across Arthur’s shoulder blades with the heel of his hand. He doesn't bother with offering words of comfort; just being together right now he feels is enough. He rests his cheek on the top of Arthur’s head, placing a kiss on top of his soft hair after just a moment. 

Wordlessly, Arthur pulls Merlin down into his lap. The man’s arms wrap around Merlin’s waist and his face nuzzles into the crook of Merlin’s neck. “I’m scared,” Arthur whispers so softly that Merlin almost misses it. “He's going to kill me. Mordred. I'm so, so scared.”

Merlin presses a reassuring hand to the back of Arthur’s neck and strokes it in long motions. Those words break Merlin’s heart, and there's almost nothing he can possibly do about it. He can't make the pain go away, and he can't do anything to alleviate the effects of it indefinitely. There's little he can do other than simply give Arthur as much love as he can possibly muster. So that's what he's doing now as he leaves small kisses on Arthur’s smooth neck and tell him he loves him. 

An hour passes with the two of them curled up into each other, Merlin comforting a vulnerable Arthur. The latter leaves wet tear stains on Merlin’s shirt when he finally pulls away. It breaks Merlin’s heart even more to see the redness in Arthur’s eyes and how weak it makes him look - so unlike how he normally is. 

“I'll be here for you no matter what,” Merlin whispers. “I won't leave your side, no matter what happens. I won’t let anything hurt you”

Arthur tightens his arms around Merlin’s waist while letting out a long, drawn out sob that leaves Merlin speechless. It breaks his heart a little more just to hear it. 

“He’ll kill you too,”Arthur replies, voice shaky and wavering. “He won’t let you get away unscathed. My dad - he’s - fuck it.” He abruptly stands up, forcing Merlin to fall from his lap. The man swipes a quick hand across his eyes to whisk away any stray tears - although the redness and puffiness around his eyes remain - and runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. The appearance of Arthur makes him seem even crazier when he says, “We’re going to America. Tonight. Get away from all of this” 

Merlin blinks in surprise. America? Tonight? There’s no way. Both of them have jobs. Both of them have rent and Merlin has his mother… He can’t leave. So Merlin pulls himself off of the floor and takes Arthur’s hands in his. Gently, he leads the man to their bedroom and sits him down on the bed to talk some sense into him. 

Kneeling down to be eye level with his husband, he says, “Arthur. We can’t leave. What about your job? Or mine? Where would we live? You know they’ll follow us. Mordred will make sure of that.” Merlin pushes some hair from Arthur’s face and tucks it back into place with a small smile. “I know today is really bad, but try to relax, okay? I’ll get us some wine, you just lay back and close your eyes.”

Arthur slowly nods his head and does as he’s told. However, when Merlin returns with the drinks, he finds quite a different picture. Arthur is curled up in the fetal position with his knees pulled up to his chest, quietly sobbing into his pillow. The sight is nearly enough to bring tears to Merlin’s own eyes. He places the glasses on the dresser, abandoning them indefinitely, and spoons his body around Arthur’s. They lay there once again for what feels like hours as Arthur’s sobs turn into sniffles and eventually into silence. Merlin doesn’t move until he feels Arthur’s breathing slow and become deeper to signal his sleep. 

He can only begin to imagine how Arthur must be feeling. On one hand, he just lost his father. On the other, his life just became that much more dangerous. It’s an awful combination that can’t yield to much good. Merlin desperately wishes he could do something to make it better for his husband, however there doesn’t seem to be much of an alternative other than just being there for him. He collects the wine glasses to wash and leaves his husband to his own private thoughts and sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

While Arthur restlessly sleeps beside him, Merlin remains wide awake. He keeps replaying Arthur's words about leaving for America as a way to escape all this, all of this crazy shit that he's gotten himself into.

It all seems unreal. Just a few months ago, he was frantically finishing his medical degree while applying for residency. It had been years since he'd last been laid, and his life was relatively boring. Now, he's spiritually married to a legally married, prescription drug dealing, head of pediatrics, rich, handsome, painfully good a sex, son of bitch. His life is in shambles, or what little of it he has left is. There's no way he can see himself living for much longer, not with all that's going on with this entire drug empire looking out for him. There's probably someone right now who's watching the building to see if he and Arthur leave, probably reporting back to Mordred, while Arthur sleeps beside him.

Arthur's done nothing but harm to Merlin's life since they met. Nothing. He ruined Merlin's feelings of self-worth when they were sleeping together while he was still with Gwen, made to feel like a booty call not worth any other consideration. He spends all his free time doctoring Arthur's wounds or helping him shoot up his morphine or having sex or cleaning up the flat or…

He can't do this.

Before Arthur, he had a bright future full of possibilities. Now, he's likely to die before the end of the week. It's clear to him what he needs to do, and it's definitely not spending another day trying to make dinner while looking after a high Arthur. What has he done to his life? Or more importantly, why did he let this foolish idea of love blind him into ruining his life and possibly ending it?

Merlin carefully peels the blankets back from his body, as if he might actually wake Arthur from the drug-induced sleep. He pauses for a long moment to memorize the look of peace upon his husband's face, the now pasty color of his skin, the fair eyelashes and eyebrows, the mouth he used to love to kiss. He bites his lip to keep from crying.

It pains him to toss what he can into his backpack, the very same one he carried on his back the first time he saw Arthur at the hospital. Merlin doesn't even think about what he's packing, as its only purpose is to distract him from the thoughts about what he's about to do.

Ten minutes later, Merlin stares out of the window of the cab. He tried to cover his face as best as he could with a knit cap and a hoodie, but he knows it was all useless. He can't be stupid enough to think that his little disguise may have evaded Mordred's goons. With a shaky hand, he tightens his overcoat closer to his body and casts a glance at the driver. An elderly man, innocent looking enough.

He'd left the flat soundlessly, so Arthur hopefully won't even realize he's gone until the morning. It pains Merlin to think of how Arthur would feel the second he sees Merlin missing along with his backpack and without a note. He shakes the thoughts away knowing that it wasn't worth it. He'd made one hell of a mistake.

It wasn't simple getting a ticket last minute to America. He ended up snagging the last seat on a plane leaving at eleven the next morning after a man canceled a seat for his fiance, thus opening up one for Merlin. It wasn't ideal for Merlin, who'd hoped to be out of the country as soon as possible, but it's the best available.

As he waits for the time to slowly creep by, he finds a corner just outside of security and in plain view of pretty much anyone who cared to enter the building. It's safe, it's relatively concealed, and it's going to have to be suffice for the time being.

A few hours later, just as the clock hits six, Merlin's phone begins to vibrate in his pocket. When he checks it, he isn't too surprised to see it's Percy. In a sudden wave of confidence, Merlin presses 'ignore'.

It's a relief when he finally hears that his plane has landed, so much that he is the first to go through security and customs just seconds after the announcement. His anxiety is off the charts as he maneuvers through all the checks with the fear of being stopped by someone from the drug ring. It's not until he enters the terminal and is in line to have his boarding pass checked that he begins to slightly relax. He's almost there; Mordred isn't going to have someone board the plane and fly to America only to kill Merlin on foreign soil.

However, all is changed when a voice rings through the crowd.

"Merlin!"

Merlin quickly turns his head after hearing his name across the busy terminal. He scans the immense crowd of people around him, all of whom could seem less concerned with why this gangly man is stopped and caring more with why he's blocking traffic. Merlin's pushed out of the way twice before he finally spots the man shouting for him: Elyan.

The man is frantically waving in his direction with such a look of concern that Merlin can't help but try to make his way to. It takes a solid five minutes to weave his way back through the crowd, past the confused looking employees and a mother with three crying babies. He's out of breath when he reaches Elyan with his backpack hanging limply from his shoulders.

The first thing Elyan does is throw his arms around Merlin in a tight embrace. It's then that Merlin can feel the wetness of tears on his friend's face. It confuses him to no end as to what could possibly cause Elyan to cry at the mere sight of Merlin, a man he barely knew!

Merlin pulls away a few seconds after he feels Elyan loosen his arms. He looks at the man with a look of pure bewilderment, and before he can utter a word, Elyan says,

"Arthur's gone after Mordred. I think he's going to - "

And that's all that has to be said before Merlin's mind is made up. He takes a step back away from the other man with a newfound confidence. He'd been an idiot to think that he could abandon Arthur, not at a time like this.

Arthur may have drastically altered the course of Merlin's life, but maybe not in the way he'd initially thought. Arthur is undoubtedly the absolute love of Merlin's pathetic life. He's the only part of this crazy fucked up world that gives Merlin any hope to continue, any real vision of a future. It may be one where he ends up dead sooner rather than later, but at least he won't end up alone. There's no other place he'd rather be than by Arthur's side, where he feels safe amongst all the insanity, where he knows that he won't be abandoned, where he knows he isn't taking on the world alone.

Life isn't about yourself. It's about others, and Merlin will be damned if he doesn't at least try to fix this chaos that's surrounding his life while hopefully saving the love of his life from utter disaster.

With this new sense of empowerment, Merlin shifts the weight of his bag higher onto his shoulder. He nods his head. "Take me to him."

Elyan claps Merlin on the bicep with a look of relief plain across his face. "Thank you," he utters, this relief very evident in his voice.

On the ride to the warehouse, where apparently Arthur has gone to seek out Mordred, Merlin hears the details. Just a few hours after he'd left the previous night, one of Arthur's numerous informants had called Percy, who was on the duty of keeping track of Mordred for the night, that Mordred was seen at the warehouse with two doctors from St. Mary's. Because these two individuals worked at St. Mary's, it became a high priority. It would be all too easy to keep tabs or make a move on Arthur at work, where he once felt so safe. Percy immediately called Arthur for fear that he'd wake up the next morning and head straight to work, and when the call didn't go through to Arthur, Percy then tried to contact Merlin.

Of course, Arthur eventually saw the missed call and rings Percy back. By this time, Elyan was already on his way to Arthur's flat just to be used a back up.

Five minutes after he hung up with Percy, Arthur was spotted leaving the building in clothes that definitely weren't appropriate for work. It doesn't take a genius to infer where the man intended on going.

When Elyan had arrived at Arthur's flat, he wasn't entirely surprised to find it empty. Although Arthur is quite physically hurt, not to mention likely high, he's always let his emotions get the best of him in times like this. What surprised him, however, was to find Merlin missing. It's unlike Merlin to let Arthur off on his own, but even more unlike to allow him to go off on such a dangerous mission. About a minute later after finding the flat empty, Elyan calls Arthur.

Arthur gruffly answers on the third ring. "What, Elyan?"

It's a special kind of relief to even have gotten an answer at all. "Arthur, mate, what's going on?"

"Fuck, Elyan, what the hell do you think is going on?" Arthur snaps. "I'm going to end this whole shitstorm. I have nothing to lose, so why the hell not?"

Elyan can sense the direness of the situation. Arthur clearly is agitated, high, and alone. Merlin would never have condoned this kind of rash behavior. Not when so much is at stake. "Where's Merlin?" he tentatively asks, alright knowing the answer deep down in his gut.

A long pause follows and that alone is an adequate enough answer. "Like I said, I have nothing to lose." The beep that follows Arthur hanging up thirty seconds later is concrete.

It's then that Elyan breaks about a dozen traffic laws trying to get to the airport, where he knows Merlin must be. In his eyes, the only way to remedy the situation and save the lives of not only Arthur but probably his own is to find Merlin.

When the man finishes his story, Merlin has to bite back tears. He'd been so idiotic, so selfish. In the moment, he'd been thinking only of himself. He was unable to see how his actions would directly impact so many; had he gotten on that plane, Arthur would surely be dead. How could he live with himself knowing that the love of his life was dead by his own decisions? He couldn't believe how utterly inconsiderate he'd been. It sickens him while also reaffirming his deep love for Arthur. It will always be a mystery to him how he feel so hard for such a person like Arthur, but it will never be a question that the love they have is one only experienced once in a lifetime. It's terrifying.

Merlin whisks a stray tear from his left cheek and looks down at the fading marker-wedding ring on his left hand. It's smudged and barely able to be noticed, much like a metaphor for the state of their relationship at the moment. Arthur could be dying, lying on the cold floor alone and bleeding, but he would die thinking that Merlin abandoned him. That's enough to make dozens more tears roll down Merlin's face.

The rest of the ride is silent save for the occasional sniffle.

Nothing could have prepared Merlin for what he'd see when he and Elyan busted into the warehouse. It was like nothing Merlin could ever have prepared himself for, not even after years of medical school and the few months of residency he's completed.

The stench hits him first. It's the hot, rusty smell of freshly spilled blood mixed with sweat and gunpowder. The air is thick with heat and also with the weight of the dead silence that's fallen over the room. They came too late.

"I'm calling an ambulance," Elyan calmly says, although Merlin can feel the emotion in his voice.

It's after he recovers from the initial shock that Merlin becomes fueled with adrenaline. He shouts Arthur's name as he runs through all of the carnage, slipping on blood and urine more than once as he runs through the battlefield.

Through all of the mess, he sees one familiar shock of blonde hair standing out among all the red. He falls to his knees beside his broken man, the utter love of his life, the best thing that could ever happen to him. His shirt is stained with blossoming red coming from a wound in his stomach. There is a slight rise and fall of Arthur's chest, but it's not one that shows he has a lot of time left to live. Merlin rips off his own shirt and begins to apply pressure to Arthur's wound. It's deep and from a high caliber bullet; the chances of recovery are slim. Merlin can't help but burst into tears.

"Arthur," he chokes out. "I'm so sorry. I - I was such a prick. I left. I was so selfish. I'm - "

Arthur stirs. "Merls," he whispers as if the mere movement of his lips is enough to cause him severe pain. "Stop. This needed to happen. I needed to end this."

Merlin cradles Arthur head in his lap and brushes some of his sticky hair from his forehead. "I should have been here."

"I forgive you," Arthur replies. Suddenly, he begins to violently cough, which leaves the remainder of face wet with fresh blood. His time is nearly up.

Merlin lets out a long sob. "I love you, I love you so much. We were supposed to get married, adopt a few kids, live in the suburbs. You can't leave me."

Arthur's own tears begin to wash away some of the blood on his face. "You still can. Think of me every once in awhile?"

"Arthur, stop," Merlin frantically says. "Don't - you're going to be fine. Elyan is calling for help. They'll be here any minute. You're going to be fine."

Arthur smirks and attempts to laugh. "Merlin, we're both doctors. I'm not going to live."

Merlin falls to pieces over Arthur's broken body. "Stop."

"Thank you, Merlin, for showing me what love really is."

"Arthur, stop," Merlin shouts through his tears. "Stop, stop, Arthur."

Arthur doesn't reply.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support throughout this journey! I appreciate it. Check out King and Consort for my newest artistic endeavor.

The list of the dead was long. The list of the living was painfully short.

Gwaine was among the many that died that night. His Elaine gave birth to their daughter a few months later.

Percy was cornered at his home in North London. The outcome was not a pretty one.

Elyan's lived, although quite miserably. A month later he was incarcerated for his crimes and isn't likely to breathe freedom until his seventies.

Through some sort of miracle, Gwen is sentenced to twenty years with a chance of parole. Her involvement was minimal and the court saw her as more of a victim than an accomplice.

Morgana is among the dead. She left behind crimes that easily outnumbered Arthur's and was revealed to have betrayed her father and her family more times than she had not. When this was revealed that night at the warehouse, Arthur ended her life.

Mordred delivered the shot to Arthur's stomach, but only after Arthur had made sure he wouldn't see the light of day.

Arthur fell somewhere in between. The ambulance came just minutes after Arthur drew what was perceived to be his last breath. However, it was and it wasn't. He remains in Avalon hospital in a coma while his body tries to repair the damage that the gun had given him.

Merlin visits him every day. He changes out the flowers that sit beside Arthur's bed and tells him every update on what happens at the hospital in his absence. He also redraws the wedding band on his left ring finger.

The once and future king will rise again.


End file.
